Flowers in the Rain
by JauntyChick
Summary: Greg/OC or GPA. Loadsa fluff, and an absolute ton of drama involving Allie Moore and her strange, strange relatives. I really do hate writing these summaries, LOL! Complete as of the 7th June.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

So...we meet again. Here I am, day off, deciding to take another crazy spell and write all my recollections from this year and put them onto paper. Do you know, I had a blister for three days after the last story? You do now!

Anyways, some of you may know...some of you may not; I'm Allie Moore. 27 years old and completely in love with Greg Sanders. We've been going out for two years. I live with him and everything's great...well, except that underlying thought at the back of my mind that something's going to happen to him when he's out in the field. I mean, when we were both lab-rats...it was great but now he's trying to break into the world of a CSI and...well...I'm sure he'll be perfectly fine. But then. Nick Stokes; Stalked, kidnapped, buried alive. My heart begins to beat a lot faster everytime I think on anything like that happening to Greg. I shake the thoughts away. I have a story to get back to.

I almost left last year, because of all the switching about, but, boy, am I glad I didn't!

And here, the story begins...hope you all enjoy it!

Allie

**XOX**


	2. Chapter One

Ch. 1 (Allie POV...hope you all enjoy this because I'm really, really nervous about it! Well...not _nervous_ per se. Excited I think. **And slightly hoping that you all will press the tiny review button down at the very, very end of this chapter! Also, just a warning: there's some Greg-angst here. You'll see what I mean when you read on. Enjoy it :)**

I sigh as I sit back in my lab-stool. What a slow, dull day for DNA. I pick up Greg's Kerrang! Magazine which I have read at least fifty times today. Honestly, I can now nearly read Jared Leto's mind. Then I get up, pull out my radio and turn it on and up. Hall and Oates, 'You Make My Dreams (Come True)'. Always makes me dance when no one's around...

...and, _no one_ is around. No one's outside either, except the odd person who will have their heads stuck into a book or something. So I turn it up, take my hair down and smirk. I couldn't help myself...I was in a great mood, albeit I was kinda bored.

'_What I want, you've got...but it might be hard to handle...like a flame that burns the candle...don't know how I can explain, oh, yeah...there comes you...you make my dreams come true'_

So there I was...bounding about like a complete idiot. I was so enthralled with my mock 80s dancing, that I never had time to hear the door open behind me. There he was, grinning foolishly at me.

"Well, weren't you lucky it was me that came in, as opposed to...say...Grissom?" Greg teased, placing a hand on my hip and kissing me.

"Damn straight." I say, quickly putting Hall and Oates off. Stupid catchy bubble-gum pop. It really should be banned. Greg then popped his head under the desk and into one of the drawers before pulling out Marilyn Manson and popping him in the CD player. I rolled my eyes. "Can't you play something decent?"

"This is decent...well..." He trailed off, checking out the CD case lyrics book.

"Face it, Sanders...you just can't play the same music these days. Think of Tallulah."

I could almost hear a faint 'tut' emanating from Greg. "She'll get used to it." He smirked.

"So...does _anyone_ in this place have _anything_ for me to process?"

"Mm...Sara's taking me into the field later...I'll see what I can do."

"Outstanding...so, uh...you up for dancing later? After dinner, of course."

"Dancing?" He scrunched his face up. "Al, I don't dance." He winked. I pouted.

"You will with me, though, right?"

"Yes..." He huffed. I could tell he was looking forward to it, though.

"I _love_ dancing, Greg."

"Believe me, I know." He yawned. The thing I loved about Greg was the way...well, when some people become CSIs, they turn uber serious. Greg, since I've known him, has never been too serious. Quiet, when it comes to the real, serious stuff... but funny when someone needed cheering up. "So, uh...Hall and Oates?"

"Yes, Hall and Oates. Fine lyrical geniuses. Why? They don't scream down a microphone enough for you?"

"No, no...nothing wrong with a bit of 80s cheese. Long as it's subtle. I'm a 2pac man, myself."

"Two pock?"

He glared at me. "You're cute when you mock..."

"Thanks."

"Okay...gotta go. Be a CSI-man - like Spiderman, but with all the technology of AFIS in his pocket!"

"Oh? CSI-man, is it? Sounds tough." I mock him.

"Like me..." He walked up to me and put his arms around my head.

"Fierce..."

"Oh...could be me..."

"Drop-dead gorgeous? Unimaginable wit and sense of humour?"

"Allie...I _am_ the original CSI-man."

"I _know_...considering you've been a tech since...forever, is it?"

"Mm..." He picked me up, put me on the stool and kissed me. I wrapped my arms around him, then he stood up. He was just getting too cocky with that lifting-me-up thing. It needed to stop...although, maybe another couple of days of it wouldn't hurt...

"GREG!" I yelled. He put me down and placed his hands on his hips.

"Be careful, okay?" I kissed him, knowing that was probably the last I'd bring that subject up. "But know this..." I put my finger up, making sure he would listen. "Whenever you're out there, I almost have panic attacks! Panic attacks, Greg. The things were you can't breathe, you get a pain..."

"I'll be _fine_." He kissed me, tentatively. Man...he really _was_ capable of making someone melt.

I sighed. Sometimes I think he's trying to reassure himself whenever he tells me he'll 'be fine!'. "Yeah."

"I love you." He kissed me on the cheek. Damn Greg! Always making me melt...or flutter...something I really shouldn't be doing when I'm trying to argue!

"I love you, too."

Later on that day, I finally had loads of things to check out. Still no word from Greg, though. I was desperately trying to concentrate on my work. I handed Catherine, Sara, Warrick and Nick their own separate results when they asked for them, I cleaned up, had lunch _and_ dinner...no word from any of them. Frustrated and slightly worried, I opened my phone and dialed his number. Twice! No answer, so I tried Grissom. He told me he was in his office, buried under with work.

"Aren't you supposed to be with Greg?"

"No...Sara was going with him."

"Hm. Oh...can I call you back?"

"No, no. No need. Thanks anyway." And that was it. I hung up, not even thinking on trying to get in touch with them again. Well, I thought, but... I finished up my lab work and headed back to mine and Greg's house. I had a bath and waited for Greg to come home. 8:38PM came and then my phone rang. I bounded over to it hoping to hear Greg's voice telling me he'd be home in twenty. Instead, I got Sara's shaken voice.

"Hello...?" I asked, and there was a long silence.

"A-Allie?"

"Yeah, hey, Sara. What's up?"

"Uh...I'm at the hospital." Uh-oh. "With Greg."

"With...what's wrong with Greg? Is he okay?"

"Not..." She trailed off, a strange noise came from her then. My mind started whirring.

"Sara?! Sara, what happened?"

"I'm sorry, Allie..." She sniffed.

"Sara, is Grissom there?"

She never replied and then I heard Grissom's calm voice on the other end. "Alison?"

"Griss, what happened? I-is Greg okay?"

He let out a long, bad sigh. "No, Allie. He isn't."

"Oh, no..." I whispered. I felt as though someone had just shot me. I felt hollow. Empty. It was almost as if the words weren't going through my ears. Or maybe they were and I just refused wasn't listening.

"Sara took him out into the field...there was this team of _kids_. Teenagers. They beat him up when Sara went to investigate a possible suspect. He's stable. Badly bruised, though. Just...don't worry."

I blinked. Surely he was lying. "Grissom. You _cannot_ be serious."

"He'll be fine...maybe you should come over here though. I'll send Hodges..." There was a long, long pause. "Allie?"

"Yes?" My mind was still busy trying to register what Grissom had told me.

"He'll be okay. Just...sit tight."

"Yeah." I whispered and plopped down in my chair, dropping the phone next to me. I couldn't focus. I actually thought I'd just gone blind and deaf. When I tried to speak it came out just a tiny, minute squeak. Ten minutes went by until the doorbell rang. I got up and answered it, slowly. It was Hodges. He bundled me into his car. He never spoke, either. I figured he must've been trying to give me privacy...or he could have been nervous. "Have you seen him?"

"No."

"Has Grissom?"

"Yes."

"Did...was Sara with him when...?"

"No."

I nodded. _Now_ I felt like crying. Hodges looked over at me and squeezed my hand. "He'll pull through, Allie."

"Yeah. Course he will." Thankfully, we arrived and Hodges dropped me off so as he could return to the lab. I sauntered slowly into the reception room.

"Gregory Sanders, please?" I never got a chance of a response from the receptionist.

"Allie!" Nick and Warrick came over to me. Everything was going so quickly that I didn't have any idea where everybody was. I wasn't paying attention, I didn't want to see anyone, hear anyone...I just wanted Greg to be all right. "Hey..." Nick pulled me into a hug.

"Where is he, Nick?"

"He's okay. He's in the, uh, private room. The doctors have him bandaged up. Nothing was broken. He's very badly bruised though." Warrick put a protective arm around me next. Grissom came walking out and smiled feebly at me. I still couldn't seem to make sense of any of this.

"How are you?" He asked, sitting me down in a chair.

"I...want to see him..." I sounded like I was way off in a distant galaxy. I wasn't sure the words were coming from me.

"You can't. Yet. None of us can." Warrick sat in front of me and Nick was at my side. "Allie? Can we get you anything?"

I shook my head, slowly. "No. I'll be fine." I hope. I actually didn't really care about myself. I just wanted to see Greg. "When do we get to see him?"

"Maybe later. He has to get some stitches, then he'll be on _big_ painkillers, so he'll be pretty out-of-it." Nick handed me his jacket. I looked down, noticing I'd forgotten to bring a jacket or a cardigan or something. I wondered why I was so cold. "Don't worry." He nodded. I smiled. Easy for everyone to say...not easy to actually put it into motion.

A while later, me and Grissom were still quietly waiting on a doctor to come out and give us some information. Nick and Warrick got called out to a job, but left reluctantly. The rest of the people in the waiting room had left. Grissom was sat in the corner reading a magazine. Bridal magazine, actually.

"Didn't put you down for the marrying type." I said, only it came out as a series of croaks and coughs from trying not to cry.

"I'm not. _Probably_ not." He half-smiled.

"Sara doesn't seem to be, either." I sat up properly. "Do you think you'll ever get married, at all?"

"I would like to."

"See, now _that_ surprises me."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

I was about to reply, when the door opened and a doctor came out. I knew him! "Doctor Pendanski!" I shot up, out of the chair. "How is he?"

"Uh, Mr. Sanders," He checked his papers and then looked up at me. "He's had a pretty bad blow today. Nothing too serious. A _lot_ of bruises. A few cuts. He says his arm is really killing him, but it isn't broken."

I blinked as the tears made their way down my cheeks. "Don't worry about him, Mrs. Sanders." Doctor Pendanski put a hand on my arm. I wiped my eyes.

"Did he sustain any head injuries?" Grissom asked him, seriously. The doctor shook his head.

"Thankfully, no. But, as I said...there's a lot of pain in bruising. He's on heavy painkillers for a couple of days. He can't go back to work for at least two weeks. Remember, _at least_. Not at most. Three weeks would be better." He turned back to me. "He just needs someone to keep a good eye on him, Mrs. Sanders."

"Actually, I'm just his girlfriend." Not that I didn't want to be more... "But, thanks. Uh, when can we see him?"

"Soon. I'll just go and get some things...could you, wait here for a tick, please?" Me and Grissom nodded as the doctor headed out of the room, frantically looking through his papers.

"Feel better now?" Grissom asked me. I nodded.

"A little." I had this thing...doctors had to tell me everything was okay before I believed it. "I just...can't quite believe it...it happened. I-I told him, Grissom...I keep telling him not to go, but..."

Grissom never said anything until the doctor came back. "Miss...uh, Moore...You can go in and see him now." He didn't say that Grissom could, but I got that impression.

"I'll go first." Grissom finally spoke up again. I nodded and sat down. The information that Greg was all right and not in any immediate danger just buzzed through my head. I felt a major sense of relief. Nick and Warrick had told me that they collected DNA from the guy who had beaten Greg up, from under Greg's fingernails. Hopefully, we would know soon. I still didn't know why they would do it, and I doubted I ever would. I waited anxiously for Grissom to return and then, a long, painful ten minutes later, he re-emerged from the hall and half-smiled at me.

"H-how is he, Grissom?"

"Bruised, Allie. Just be aware of that when you go in."

I nodded. Must be bad if Grissom was telling me, I thought. "Okay."

"Want me to go with you?"

"Nope..." I exhaled the breath that I had been holding since Grissom came back to Reception. "I'll be fine." I felt sick, I was tired, hungry, annoyed, relieved, angry, sad and a little happy, too. All of these emotions had their reasons for loitering at the back of my mind. I opened the door and, as I walked down to room 1672, I began to feel as though I was walking on air. Like, lightheadedness, if you know what I mean. I stopped at the door and already I felt as though I could burst into tears. The nurse from the room opened the door to leave, and she jumped a little when she saw me just lurking there.

"Oh...Mrs. Sanders?"

"Allie Moore. His girlfriend."

"Oh, I see." The nurse smiled. She was a small, skinny lady with a friendly smile and a warm demeanor. "Don't worry about him, Dear. He'll be just right in a couple of weeks." With that, Nurse K left me at the door. Slowly, I opened it and stepped inside. It was a large, warm room. A nice feeling to it, all things considered. There was a huge TV and a small radio. Some books, magazines and the like stacked onto a medium bookcase and there was still room for lots of other furniture.

"Okay..." I primed myself as I walked over to Greg's side. Grissom was right. Greg_ was_ badly bruised. I felt tears sting at my eyes. Parts of his face were it's normal tanned colour but the rest was either dark purple or dark red...it was all swollen, save for his nose. He had a few cuts on his face. His neck was fine until you came to the collar-bone, which looked to be badly cut. His chest was swollen and slightly purple. "Oh, Greg..." Then I couldn't just keep the tears in any longer. I pulled the chair over and sat next to him. I wondered how this could happen. Especially to Greg. He was so nice, funny...sweet. Had it been me...

Everything was perfect.

Too damn perfect.

**A/N: Wow! Bet none of you expected that!!! So...sorry for the miserable chapter. I promise **_**everything**_** will pick up after this! I, myself, hate the idea of Greg in the field, and I plan to have him happy and back in the lab. Besides...his hair was always immaculate in the lab ;)**

**Please R&R!**

**Oh, it's GREAT to be back!!! Love and cookies, JauntyChick XOX**


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two!

I left Greg about an hour later, after I had told Grissom to go home. He left, again, hesitantly. I got out to my car, feeling dreadful - might I add, and opened the door. I was tired, it was late and I really, really didn't want to go back to our flat. It was a cold night. I knew both Warrick and Nick lived very close to the hospital. Nick more so. So I drove to his house, parked and locked my car and headed up to his door. I knocked quietly, actually hoping he wouldn't answer it. Unfortunately, he did. He yawned as he opened the door.

"Allie! Hey." Nick smiled. I forced a smile, but all I wanted to do was cry.

"Hi, Nicky."

"How are you?"

"I'm..." Oh, no...here come the tears! The hiccup tears. "Oh, Nicky..."

"Oh, now...come here." Nick walked down onto the step that I was standing on and enveloped me in a hug.

"But...he's..." Hiccup. "I can't..."

"Come in." He pulled me into his house. I wiped my eyes quickly and managed to stop hiccuping. He put his kettle on and turned his TV down. He handed me a tissue, as well. I took it and wiped me eyes again. Impossible to get me to actually _stop_ crying whenever I started.

"He's so...purple." I gasped. Thinking on it now, _purple_ wasn't the best describing word. "I c-ah."

Nick put his arm around me and smiled. "Talk to me, Al."

"He-I can't..."

"Then don't worry." He wiped a stray tear off my face. "Just sit back."

I did. He wrapped a red, fluffy blanket around me. I waited a while til I spoke. Nick had made me lovely warm hot chocolate. He had a really lovely fire on, too. I sighed. "Sara, apparently, took Greg out to process. He was getting fingerprints, she did the blood. She went around the alley - _no_ cops around - cause she heard a noise. Then, when she couldn't find anything, she came back and...Greg was..." I fought back more tears. A losing battle, on my part. "She said it was a black-haired, coloured male. Skinny as a rake. She was only gone a couple of minutes, but..."

"I collected the guy's DNA from under Greg's fingernail. He fought back."

"Warrick said so." I felt about as small as a mouse. "Did you run it yet? I..."

"Hodges was running it when we left. About half an hour ago. He was supposed to call me, but."

"Mm." I sighed. "Guess I'd better go home, then." Without Greg. A glum scenario, indeed.

"Wait there." He threw his hands up and then ran up his stairs. A few moments later, he brought down a few pillows and more blankets. "You're staying here. Can't let you drive like this."

"No-"

"Shoosh. Here, sit up." He put the pillow down beside the arm-rest. When he finished, he had actually made a half-way nice bed.

"Thanks, Nick. I'll be out of your hair tomorrow." He really was a great guy, and why he never went out with anyone was beyond me. He was sweet, caring, considerate. Man, I had to find him a gal.

"Take your time, okay?" He smiled. "Night, Allie."

"Night, Nick."

Then I had to make myself fall asleep. I awoke the next morning feeling a bit better. I wasn't worried, wasn't stressed...I wasn't even sad or angry. I stretched and decided to get rid of my faux-bed before Nick woke up. I had a shower, got a spare toothbrush and brushed my teeth, got dressed and made myself some breakfast. All that and it was only 7:17AM. I heard Nick running his own shower, so I made him some breakfast, too.

"Mornin', Al." He smiled, yawning. I had heard reports of Nick not being a morning person.

"Hey, Nick. Made you breakfast." I smiled, politely. "I had a shower, thanks. Hope you don't mind."

"Not at all. How are you feeling?"

"Great, thanks." The only thing making me feel any way nervous was the thought of having to visit Greg.

"We got that guy, by the way."

"What?!" I jumped up.

"His name's T-J Solandis." Nick sat down and started munching away on his toast. "He was connected with the case, too. Griss has him in the interrogation room."

"That's brilliant." I grinned. "Thank you, Nicky."

"What did I do?"

"You got the DNA...oh, hang on...I have to go. Thanks again, man. The bed was great!" I hugged him, collected my bag and opened the door.

"Hey, Al?!"

"Mm?"

"Do you want someone to go with you? To see Greg, I mean."

"Nah. Should be fine. He'll be awake today, at least." That's what I didn't want. It would have been better if he'd slept through the pain. This was not the case, however. I arrived twenty minutes later at the hospital, as I wanted to get to work. Grissom hadn't offered me any more time off. The nurse reluctantly let me in to see Greg sitting up, eyes moist and a serious frown. I smiled and sat on the edge of the bed. Greg was a bad patient, serious illness or not. "Hey, Greggo. How you feelin'?"

"Like death. Not even warmed up." He said, gloomily. I wasn't expecting him to be happy, or even talking but to be sitting scowling at the nurse was not good. This is when I realised the severity of the situation. But then, amazing! He picked up. "The nurses are very nice, though."

"That's good. Does it hurt?"

"No. Not really." He moved and I heard a wince.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." He smiled, although I knew it pained him. "You look great."

"No, I don't. Neither do you."

"I've noticed." He sat back, groaning.

"You _are_ in pain. Sit back." I started attending to him.

"What...happened?"

"I stayed at Nick's house. Didn't get much sleep." I knew he wasn't talking about that. However, I didn't _want_ to talk about what he wanted to talk about.

"That isn't what I meant..." He sighed, as I adjusted his pillows. I rolled my eyes.

"Okay...uh...Sara...left you. You remember anything?" He shook his head. "T-J Solandis came after you. He punched you, you fought back. You didn't break anything. There was a lot of cuts, though."

He blinked. "I can see very well, though."

"Does your head hurt?"

"No. Only when I poke it."

I laughed. "Then don't poke it."

He smiled, sighing. His chest had a lot of cuts, not so much bruises. His hair had been flattened. It was too short for spikes, anyway. I reached over and touched him gently on the shoulder. There was a massive gash there. He winced and I apologized. "That's okay." We sat quietly looking at each other, sometimes touching each other and smiling. I played with Greg's hair and he flicked through the channels. "I'm really sorry, Allie."

"What for?"

"Going into the field when you told me not to. Being an ass."

"Oh, Greggo..." I took hold of his hand. "You're not an ass. And I was being over-protective." I was about to say more, when my phone started playing. '_Somebody told me, you had a boyfriend_, _who looked like a girlfriend that I had in February of last year...' _Damn Killers, damn catchy tunes. I answered it. "Hello?"

"**Allie?"**

"Hey, Cath. What's up?"

"**Oh, nothing. We just wanted to know if you're working today? It's just, we're short on lab-techs...if you need time off, though-"**

"That's okay, Catherine. I'll be in soon. Maybe...half an hour?"

"**If you can...we're sorry, Allie."**

"Don't worry. See you." I hung up.

"Catherine?"

"I have to go in. I'll be back in the evening, though." I smiled. Greg had kind of...lost his little eye-twinkle. Ever since we'd started going out, he had this twinkle-thing. It was _so_ lovely. I actually couldn't name one thing about Greg that I didn't love. "I love you, Greg. I really do. You know that, don't you?"

It was kind of hard to decipher what emotion he was showing, because of the swelling. "Yes..." He extended the word, curiously.

"And, I'd be stuck if anything happened to you."

"Allie...I love you, too." He smiled at me again. Still no twinkle. "I'm still sorry."

He was embarrassed. I didn't want him to be. I just...didn't want anything to happen to him. Despite my good feelings, a few tears streamed down my face. "Don't be, Greg. I just...I'm sorry for being such a bitch and not letting you go out there."

"You were right, though." He sighed.

"No I wasn't. Nick could've went. It could have happened to him." I wiped the tears away with the back of my hand. "Anyways..." I wanted a subject change...now! "You'll be out in a couple of days, the nurse said."

"_Then_ I'll be happy." He snickered. I smirked.

"You want anything for lunch? I could come over..."

"Allie, I can't let you constantly see me like this...you should spend the least amount of time here possible."

Great. More tears. I'd never seen him like this. Ever! He was so helpless...depressed...I wanted the twinkle to come back! Then a thought hit me - what if it never came back?! He'd probably be assigned to work in the lab for a while, which he really didn't want, I thought. I just wanted to hug him. "Greg..."

"Allie, just go..."

"No, Greg."

"I'm fond of you, you know." He attempted to squint at me. "So I can't let you do this."

"Oh, be quiet!" I got up and walked over to him. "_I_ will be back." I leant over and kissed him - gently - on top of his head. He pulled me down and kissed me, majorly. I was surprised as I thought he'd be in pain. But apparently not...it lasted a while and then he pulled away and smiled. I could've sworn that I saw a twinkle.

"I love you." He said, quietly. He was good at saying it, after about the twentieth time. He wasn't the most confident person I'd ever met, surprisingly.

"Love you, too. See you later, honey."

I managed to get back to the lab without crashing my car. I pulled on a different top and a new sweater. The jeans were fine. I yawned and walked in. Catherine greeted me at the door. She smiled pitifully and pulled me into a hug.

"Allie, how are you?"

"I'm fine, Cath. Thanks for asking."

"Look, if there's _anything_ I can do..."

"Nah...I'm fine, honestly."

She stopped suddenly, her long blonde hair still moving, even when she wasn't. It always amazed me how it did that. "_Allie_! Just, please, talk to me...or any of us! Sara! Nick! Warrick! We're worried about you. You don't tell anyone how you feel in times like these, you don't open up!" She cried to me. Although, I never could understand why people wrote 'he/she cried' when they're only yelling. Tears aren't_ actually_ emitting from them. I smiled.

"Catherine, I'm touched by your concern, but seriously, _I'm okay_!" I hugged her. "I'm just worried about Greg."

"We all are."

"But...what I don't get is how you guys didn't call me til _after_ the event."

"We..." She shuffled uncomfortably. "We couldn't think about how...to tell you."

"Oh." I nodded. "That's okay. Anywho, I have to get back to work. Take my mind off it for a while. Thanks, Catherine."

"See you."

So I sauntered down the hall. It was physically and mentally impossible to think about anything that isn't Greg. Even when I was processing, talking to someone or eating...I couldn't forget. _Nothing_ could make me forget about Greg. Or worry about him. Lunchtime rolled around and so I packed up some lunch for Greg and then I had to stop by the flat. I managed to pick up some blankets, a portable DVD player - yes, Nick's portable DVD player -, some magazines, some pyjama bottoms and shampoo. He had actually _told_ me to bring the shampoo. I rolled my eyes as I saw a picture of myself and Greg taken last year at the dance. Then, the doorbell rang. I tutted and got up to answer it. To my surprise, it was Mrs. Sanders.

"Oh, hello, Allie! Nice to see you, dear...have you been crying?!" Man it was_ difficult_ to get _anything_ past Aggie Sanders. She was short, skinny and, on the whole, very nice looking. She was radiant and I put it down to the Norwegian genes.

"Oh, Aggie...how are you?" I smiled.

"I'm fine...you're obviously not." She entered the room and immediately hugged me. Man, I was getting slightly ticked off about that now. No harm to Mrs. Sanders or Catherine, though. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." I couldn't tell her about Greg. I could, but he wouldn't take it well. He _still_ hadn't told his parents about working the field. So, what did I do? I lied, blatantly.

"Must be something...where's Greg?"

"Out." At the hospital.

"Out where?"

I just told you...in my head. "Just...out."

"I see..." She tapped a finger on her chin and sat me down. She had a big box under her arm which she put down on the table. "What came on you, then? I see tear-lines, Allie."

"Yeah." I sighed. "You probably do."

"What's going on?" Her voice was raising now. She was a lovely, lovely lady but whenever she let go...let me tell you; _she let __go_.

"Just...I can't say." I felt absolutely awful about lying to her, but...I had to do what I had to do.

"Tell me. _Now_."

"Greg had a small, minor accident. He had to go to the hospital."

I could almost see her breathing stop, her heart burst and her eyes widen. I blinked. "W-what happened to him? Where you there? Was anyone with him? Is he going to be all right?!"

"Okay." I inhaled. "He was out helping one of our CSIs-"

"Oh, my gosh!" She shook her head. "Does Susie know?!"

I shook my head. Susie, Greg's sister, generally called me every two or so days. "No. And no, I wasn't there. Sara...Sidle. She went behind an alley to find something and when she came back..."

I wiped a tear away. "He's fine, now. He, uh, he-he didn't break anything. He'll be fully recovered in about two or three weeks." I didn't want the next part to come out, but it did. "You know...he has this...sparkle..._twinkle_ in his eye."

She nodded. "He's had that since he was a baby." Aggie was crying, too. At least she didn't swell up like a big, bloated red thing. "When our dog died, he was eight...he lost that sparkle for a week."

"He lost it again."

"He got it back, though."

"I know."

Aggie smiled, standing up. "Well, we'd better go and see him, then, hadn't we?"

"No, no, no!" I stood up. "He...oh, man!" I slapped my forehead. "He never told you about going out into the field-"

"What field?"

"The, uh, working field." I watched as she gasped dramatically.

"Oh, I knew it, I knew it, I absolutely _knew_ it! The moment I tell him _not_ to do something, he goes off and on ahead-"

"Aggie, he listened! He did...he really didn't just want to upset you."

"It's a bit late for that!"

"I know, I know, but look...he has wanted to do this since I met him...he's really good at it...I don't want him doing it, either, but I told him not to go-"

"Obviously it didn't work." Aggie shook her head. I nodded.

"Obviously."

"Will he go back to the lab, do you think?" She asked, after a quick moment. I shrugged.

"He probably doesn't want to."

"Oh!" Aggie scoffed. "He should have worked in the record shop, he didn't listen...why do we bother, Allie?! He doesn't listen!"

"Aggie, he _does_ listen. He takes the thoughts on board, he thinks it over, if it isn't working for him, then he ditches it. You know this!"

"I know! But I can't lose him, Allie!" Aggie had raised her voice, to an incredible pitch. I sighed.

"Neither can I!" I yelled, too. We had to sit quietly for a while then she spoke.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to take this out on you. He just...makes me worry."

"I know. Sorry. He worries me all the damn time."

"You're good for him. He loves you, you know."

"I know. I love him, too."

"Anyway, we should go visit him." She stood up, wiped her eyes and took my hand. I grabbed the little bag of things. She cocked her head and smiled at me. "How does he look?"

"Bruised. Badly bruised. He has a few cuts on his chest...I'm sorry for not telling you."

"I would've found out in time."

"Yeah." Right.

Somehow, I found myself wanting this visit to be over.

Before it began, preferably.

**A/N: Again, my apologies...this story will pick up soon, cause I have a great, amazing idea! So...maybe, if you like it, you could leave me a wee review or two...have a great rest of the day, JauntyChick XOX**

PS: I'm not being evil and writing more of Headstrong...I have major, major plans for this story and I'm trying to get a few of the chapters down to see how they look. It's very hard to write this particular storyline.


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

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So, me and Greg's mom arrived at the hospital a short while later. I drove. I knew Greg wouldn't be so happy to see his mom. In the two years we'd been dating, he could never pluck up the courage to tell his own mother. I opened the door and smiled. Well, I tried to.

"Hey, Greggo."

"Hi, Al- Mom!" I'm not even going to attempt to describe what the sheer look of surprise on his face was like. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you...oh, Gregory..." Aggie went over to him and touched him on the face. He kind of...flinched before her fingers came into contact with him. I suspect he thought the same as I did - was she going to slap him or not?!?

"Mom..."

"Shh."

"Did Allie tell you?"

"I did." Better he hears it from me than his mom, right? "Sorry."

He smiled. "Thank you, Allie."

"You're not mad?"

"No. But hey, now you're here, could you bring me over the remote? The nurse took it away earlier when she changed my bandages." He managed to get that all out whilst Aggie was still examining him. He turned to her as I handed him the remote. "So, how are you?" I bit my lip. Wrong thing to say, Greg, wrong thing completely! Aggie adopted this really, really scary look and started speaking. Or...yelling.

"How am I?" She smiled. I could tell it was a fake. "How am I, Greg? My one and only son nearly got killed because he was out trying to be a CSI...even though he's never told me he's trying to be a CSI...are you getting this clearly enough, Greg? You nearly died and I didn't know! My, God, poor Allie! Have you seen what you've put her through?" Greg looked up at me and then down at his legs. I could've just hugged him right then. "What would have happened if you'd died, huh? Did you think about that, at _all_?"

He sighed and then was quiet for a long, horrid moment. "I guess not."

"So..." Aggie exhaled, sharply. Greg was still staring intently at his hands folded neatly in his lap. "How long have you been doing this?"

"About..."

"A couple of months." I shot out. Greg smiled at me. It actually had only been a few months...leading up to a year. Aggie nodded.

"And you didn't think to tell me..._why_?"

"I didn't want you to worry." He said, simply. Aggie tilted her head. Greg had this way about him...whenever he made you mad or annoyed you...somehow you couldn't help but love him all the same.

"Oh, Greg..." She started again.

"Hey, you two...I'm going for a cup of coffee...can I get you anything."

"No, thanks." Greg mumbled. Aggie shook her head, smiling. Her eyes were watering furiously so I just decided to leave ASAP. While out in the hall, I found Grissom. He had his back to me, unfortunately.

"Hey, yo, Grissom!" I called out. He stopped and turned round.

"Hello, Alison." He smiled. "How's Greg?"

"Better. He's in a good mood, anyway. Except...I kind of told on him."

"Told who? And what did you tell them?"

"His mom. I told her that he's been out in the field."

"She didn't know?" Grissom ushered me into one of the hard, plastic couches. I handed him a coffee.

"Nope. He couldn't tell her."

Grissom raised his eyebrows. It absolutely terrified me whenever he did that. "Well, why not?"

"Because." I hoped this would suffice as an answer. Not a chance in Hell with Grissom, though. I sighed. "His mom's a worrier. She was always...whenever Greg got a cut or a nosebleed, she'd take him to the ER. Only child stuff." I nodded. Grissom furrowed his brows.

"I thought he had a sister...?"

"He does."

"I see." He took a sip of the coffee, but it wasn't very nice.

"How's Sara?"

"Fine. Now. She was pretty shaken for a while."

"Yeah." Then I wondered something. "She doesn't think it's her fault, does she?"

He shrugged. "Oh, Grissom...it isn't...it really isn't."

"_I_ know."

"Good. So do I." We sat quietly drinking the nasty coffee for a while and then I sighed. "Do you know what gets me?" He shook his head. "Greg. Everything about Greg is...it's a mystery. All of it. H-he likes Van Halen, Marilyn Manson...but do you have _any_ idea how good he is with kids?"

Another head-shake. "I had no idea."

"Neither did I! Do you know how much I look like his grandma? When she was young, obviously..."

"No, Alison."

"He...there's so many things I still don't know, Grissom! W-what if..." Suddenly, my heart began to pound. "What if something worse happened to him...what if I never got to find out?"

"Secrets can never be concealed for too long without someone finding some of them out." I had no idea what he just said!

"You?"

He nodded. "Mm-hm."

"I figured."

Then his beeper went off. "I guess I'll see you back at work."

"Yeah...I'll be there in about half an hour, if that's okay."

"Certainly." He smiled and then exited the hospital. I finished my coffee and headed back into Greg's room. He and his mother were chatting and laughing while looking in the box. I wasn't even aware that she had brought the box. As soon as I came in, they immediately put all the stuff back in the chest.

"Hope I'm not interrupting."

"Course not, dear. We were just-"

"Reading my old school reports. Nothing exciting."

I frowned. "Really? You get many Cs, Greg?"

"Oh!" Aggie scoffed. "Nearly every paper he got had at least one C!"

"Mom..." Greg groaned.

"What? You weren't that bright a kid."

"I was!"

"Not." Aggie stood up and put her coat on, she threw Greg the tiny little keys that I assumed belonged to the chest. "I guess I should leave you two alone then." She bent over and kissed him on the forehead. He rolled his eyes.

"Mom..."

"Good luck, Gregory. I'll call you tonight."

"Thanks, Mom."

Aggie passed me on her way out. "You're a very, very special girl, Allie. We all think the world of you." She smiled.

"Thanks, Mrs. Sanders. Uh, you too." She nodded and then she left. I stretched and sat down next to Greg. He even looked better today. The doctors and nurses had been commenting on how fast his recovery was and how he'd be out in a couple of days. "Looking good, Mr. Sanders."

"Thanks. I feel good. I nearly died...but here I am!"

"You still on painkillers?"

"Yes, I am!" He laughed.

"Wow. I'm amazed." And thankful that they gave him a double bed. At least _now_ I get to sit next to him. Maybe even hug him. "Are you in pain?"

"If I was then, now I'm definitely not!"

I glared at him, but I'm sure he didn't care. I was sure because he pulled me closer to him and settled down a bit next to me. He stared right into my eyes. "Ah, Greg."

"Mm, Allie?"

"What's in the cool box?" I studied it. It was medium, and mahogany. There was some initials scraped onto it. A-A-H.

"Oh, just my mom's stuff."

Aggie-something-Hojem. Of course! "What kind of stuff...?"

"Just- hey! I can't tell you!"

"And why not?"

"Because. It's a secret."

"Greggo..."

"No!" He shook his head. I could tell he was extremely out-of-it by now. See, the hospital painkillers have a great effect of making you crazier by the minute. Quite fun, when you're on them, though! "Not on your life!"

"Okay, okay! Jeez..." Before I knew it, he had pulled me over and started kissing me. I was shocked! And slightly scandalized! I laughed. "Gregory Sanders! We are in a hospital!"

"It's the painkillers..." Oh, my God! There's the twinkle! I was mentally dancing around inside. I leant back over and kissed him, arms around his neck and all. I left about twenty minutes later, _extremely_ happier than the day before.

After all, the twinkle was back...which meant Greg was back.

Jeez, that really _was_ a quick recovery!

**A/N: Oh, my Fluff!!! Anyways, I know that was a quick recovery...but maybe he wasn't beaten up as badly as in FannySmackin'. Jeez, what a sad episode. I didn't even watch the end of it. I think it pained me too much. Poor Wee Greg :(**

**1, 171 words written here, I think...surely that's worth a review or three!**

**Besides...what do you all think is in the box???**

**Have a brilliant day,**

**JauntyChick**

**XOX**


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four!

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(Allie **POV**...Enjoy it!)

The next couple of weeks went by quietly, slowly...and extremely dull. I visited Greg every chance I got and I'm sure he was actually beginning to enjoy being mischievous and playing pranks on the nurses. Honestly, I felt for those girls at times! I still hadn't found anything out about the little wooden box/chest. It's really odd, because sometimes I go in and I found him reading the contents of the box and when he sees me, he just shuts it up completely! I mean, not that I'm insulted or anything, but - it's beginning to get rude! I got three feet away and then snap! There it was, shut. I was even about to sneakily open it, cause I know he keeps the key under his pillow - yeah, the stupid box gets a fancy key. Imagine my surprise! - but...he woke up! I know, I shouldn't have been sneaking about, trying to open the precious box, but I'm so utterly curious!

"You know, curiosity killed the cat..." His eyes fluttered open, causing me to jump. I rolled my eyes but I can't remember what I said back to him. He laughed, anyway. So, two weeks later, he finally got out of hospital. I made sure he took another week off work. Grissom assured me that he would keep a great eye on him at all times. Now, I don't want to be the bad buzz-killer of this story, but I don't want Greg getting hurt again out in the field. I know we caught the guy, and he was definitely looking at eight-to-ten years. Poor Sara. I think she still feels the guilt. His face had turned back to it's normal tanned colour and the twinkle was back permanently. His sister, Susie, came to visit us nightly. She was a brilliant cookie-maker. Although, she did have a fond habit of leaving me and Tallulah alone. I gotta tell you, I'm not the best with kids.

"Allie..." She smiled at me. Susie, that is. Not Tallulah.

"Yes, Susie."

"I was wondering. I know my little brother is still reeling from the emotional scars of being beaten up, but I was wondering if you two would be interested in babysitting this weekend."

"Yeah. Sure." I looked up from my magazine. "What day?"

"Saturday night...we're, uh, going to dinner."

"Nice." I turned round to see Susie and the box. Stupid box. I glared at it, hoping for some sort of miracle to come over and open it up.

"Allie! Stop glaring at my mom's box!" Susie shook her head. She was tall - taller than Greg! -, well built and blonde. She had a very nice face and great legs. So why she was married to Henry - a squat, balding man with glasses and a very bad nasal accent - was beyond me. Granted, he was nice but absolutely nothing to look at.

"I can't help it. I _have_ to know what's in the box." I threw my hands up. "Go on, Susie...please tell me what's in the box!"

"No! No, no, no, no...nope!"

"He's had it three weeks. Surely he's got a reason for not letting me see it." He must have!

"Who has a reason for what now?" Greg sauntered in from his shower. His hair was great! Oh, there's a flutter. I grinned.

"The box, dear."

"Ah."

"Don't say 'ah'! 'Ah' doesn't solve my issues with the box."

"You have issues with the box?"

"Yes. And we're babysitting on Saturday."

"Great." I laughed. The sarcasm that came from the small, tiny word was enough to crack anybody up. Susie glared at him.

"Gregory, may I remind you that you owe me." She pointed a stray finger at him. He shrugged.

"Yeah...I know!" Greg said, defensively. His defensive was high-pitched and very cute. "But Saturday...?"

"Did you have other plans?" I asked him, smiling. He rolled his eyes.

"I thought we were going out for dinner."

"Well, apparently Susie and Henry are, now."

"If you want, we could cancel-"

"Nope. Absolutely no need." I shook my head. Greg was plainly dismayed about the whole issue. Susie left about twenty minutes later, so I grabbed my chance to quiz Greg about the box. "Tell me!" I extended my 'e' and it was very, very deep and scary. He still wouldn't budge. I tried kissing the life out of him. Never worked either. So I tried ignoring him. He only took the opportunity to play _really_ loud music. I finally let go on that one. "Jeez, Greg! Turn it down!"

He laughed. "I knew you'd cave first."

"Oh!" I threw the pillow next to me at him. He threw it back, thus turning everything into a pillow fight. About twenty minutes later, we finally decided to stop. My hair had gone completely askew and Greg's hair had been flattened. I giggled. "Oh, my...you look like a dork!"

Oh..._that_ stopped him! I was only kidding, and I was gonna tell him that, but he crashed into me and started kissing me, frantically. I was extremely taken a back and very pleased. Then the doorbell rang. "Ah!" Greg shrieked.

"Ha! That's what _you_ get..." I teased, getting off my seat and up to the door. Nick. I rolled my eyes.

"Hi!" He smiled. I grinned, and placed my hands on my hips.

"Hello, Nicky. What can I do for you?"

"Um...I was wondering...c-could I come in, please?" He stammered. Something was up with him. I stepped out of the way, allowing him to come in.

"Are you all right?"

"Uh. No. I don't think..."

"Nick?" Oh, no. What's wrong with him? My heart started beating very fast. I was extremely fond of Nick and I didn't want anything bad to happen to him again. He was like my big brother. "Hey, hey, hey! What's wrong?"

"My landlord...he kicked me out."

Oh. Well, at least he's still alive. "Oh..." I patted him on the arm. "I'm sorry. Look, come on in and sit down. You want a coffee...o-or a...something? Tea? Milk? Come on..." I took his hand and ushered him into the living room and I sat him next to Greg.

"Hey, Nick. What's up?" Greg asked, a little too cheerily. I rolled my eyes.

"His landlord kicked him out."

"Why?" Greg turned round to Nick.

Nick sighed, shaking his head. "This blondie girl came round, flashing her eyes about...I guess I just lost out. The guy was a snake, anyway."

"Well...you...could stay...here..." Greg muttered. I smirked. He was _so_ adorable.

"Yeah. And, you know, we wouldn't charge you anything..." I smiled. Nick furrowed his brows.

"Are you guys sure? I mean, I could stay with Catherine-"

"Are you nuts? She has a kid. And a mom. Jeez, Nick." I tutted. "We'd love you to stay, wouldn't we, Greggo?" Greg smiled and nodded. Nick was like a big brother to him, too. "Besides, it's only for a few days, right? We'll get you sorted out."

"Thanks, guys. I really appreciate this." Nick nodded to himself.

What the hell had we just let ourselves in for?!

**A/N: Hola! Sorry for the lack of updates...my uncle had our interweb. So, I am trying to think out the rest of this story...it's class! I now know everything. Where I'm going, how I'll word 'the' chapter. It's all good.**

**Have a great rest of the day - R&R, please!**

**JauntyChick XOX**


	6. Chapter Five

Chapter Five!

(**Warning: Fluff alert! This is fluff, dudes! Once more for the road - FLUFF! There...warning enough. Oh, yeah...it's short fluff! LOL.)**

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Wow. Nick Stokes was moving in with me and Greg. Seriously...wow was all I could come up with. So, that meant I could no longer sing really loudly in the evening, nor could Greg sit and ponder in the spare room. Yeah, Greg. Pondering. What's _that_ about? Oh, it all happened before he got beaten up. He tells me he has something to plan...personally, I think he's watching TV. So, I got up from the couch, made Nick some coffee, handed Greg his cocoa. Man, that boy is such a big baby, it would surprise you. I sat down next to Greg as he took a sip of the lovely, creamy, amazingly sweet chocolate-based drink. Jeez...I really have to get out more.

"Allie, could I have two more sugars, please?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yep. The bowl's in the kitchen."

He sighed, bending over and kissing me before heading into the kitchen. Nick leant forward and ran a hand through his hair. "Allie, I'm sorry for barging in like this. Just give me one more day, an-"

"Nick, we're absolutely fine with it. Besides, we like you." I noticed Greg pass by me and try to grab the remote from me. I had the feeling he was scared of me, at times. I had to admit, it was a funny thought. I wasn't scary! Was I??? "_Don't we, Greg_?"

He nodded quickly. "We do, indeed, my lovely." Oh, Greggo. He only ever mocked me with 'my lovely' when he wanted something. Nick scrunched his nose.

"Hey, hey...could we _not_ have the lovey-dovey terms, please?" He smirked. I bit my lip.

"Sorry, Nicky. Uh, didn't you bring any of your stuff?"

"No. The guy told me I could come back for them. Generous, huh?"

I glanced at Greg. We both knew Nick wasn't really in the mood for company, so I motioned for Greg to join me in the hall. "Greggo...could we, maybe..._leave_ Nick to his own devices...just til he gets back to reality?"

"Yeah...and you know, it's my turn to visit Papa Olaf." He grinned at me with that oh-so-cute cheeky little face of his. Oh, no...now I sound like a cheesy romance novel. My stomach whirled for a spilt-second and then I nodded.

"I'll go get my coat." I touched his arm as I passed beside him. Suddenly - catching me _completely_ by surprise - he extended his arm out and touched me on the stomach, under my tee-shirt. I blinked, eyebrows fully raised. Surprised, Moore? Oh, yes. This was like a flutter...but emphasized to a point where I almost collapsed. I inhaled sharply. My mouth went completely dry and I felt a little bit dizzy. Good dizzy. Good everything. I think I even blushed a little. Whoa...what the hell just happened to me? Somehow, I managed to compose myself and get my coat. I leant against the wall of our bedroom, thoroughly happy. Oh, the things that boy made me feel... he should really be prosecuted for it.

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So, I got my coat and headed back out to find Greg and Nick chatting about surfing or...something. I cleared my throat. "Ready to go, Sanders?"

"Uh, yeah. Just...wait there." He quickly showed me his hands and turned back to Nick Surfing my foot, they were discussing which was the best super-villain. I rolled my eyes at their lack of maturity. About ten minutes later, they finally managed to pull themselves away from the magazine Nick had found under the couch. Greg, seemingly forgetting I was in the room, turned round and almost jumped right out of his skin. He suddenly adopted a quirky smile and pulled his own jacket on. "Ready!"

His hair was _so_ nice. Oh, jeez, Al! Think properly! Focus! But...so nice and spiky. Short, spiky and dark. Absolute perfection. "Good!" I cleared my throat again. I walked over to Nick, taking Greg's hand in my own. "Nicky, will you be okay on your own? There's food _everywhere_! Uh, use the phone, internet...anything. Seriously, make yourself at home. Oh, blankets and all are in the bedroom cupboard - spare bedroom, mind. And, uh, watch out for the guy downstairs. He has a noisy midget living with him." Whoa! Did I just say _all_ of that? So quickly? Yeah!

"Um..." Nick nodded, slowly. "I'll be fine, thanks." He sat back in the chair. Me and Greg continued on out the door. Hand in hand.

And we were going to see Papa Olaf.

Could this get any better? All of it?! Not at the minute, no.

I _love_ Greg Sanders.

And I wasn't afraid to shout it from the roof-tops.

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**A/N: Ooh! Fluff! So sorry for all of that. Didn't I say it would be a happy fic again? Anyways, fluff is so cliche! But fun to write, essentially. **

**So, I have the ending of this fic in my head...I just have to get it written out. **

**Man, I have had a brilliant day! I got my hoover cleaned, I got my room cleaned, I'm going to the library tomorrow...it's all good! Oh...I was ranting, wasn't I? Sorry!!! **

**If anyone has any suggestions, please send them to me. Don't be shy! **

**Please R&R and whatnot...I shall give you updates if you give me reviews.**

**Have a brilliant rest of the day,**

**JauntyChick**

**XOX**


	7. Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX!

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I absolutely _adored_ the drive to Papa Olaf's house. The scenery was beautiful, even though I knew it was only a couple of miles away from where I lived. Greg had taken to playing my Pat Benetar CD very, very loudly. And to think...he didn't consider her 'rock enough', for him. Awful.

"And what? Marilyn Manson is? No way, Sanders. And I refuse to argue about this again." I turned 'Heartbreaker' up. Brilliant song.

"It's okay, Allie..." He grinned. "We all know you only listen to bad 80s cheese."

"Oh!" I scoffed. "Be quiet. Look, there's Papa Olaf's house." I pointed to the distance. We pulled up and I had a quick check of my head in the mirror. Greg tutted. "What? Does my vanity offend you in any way?" I teased, playing with his collar. Honestly, that boy was a shambles with his clothes.

"No...it's worth it."

I blushed. And I saw myself turning red, which was worse. I opened the door of the car to get out, but I was stopped by Greg's hand on my back. He gave me that look. The look that generally made me melt inside and give in to kissing. It worked really well in arguments. It was like a puppy-dog look crossed with one of those little sympathetic looks. I leant over and kissed him, holding his head in my hands. We were getting a lot better at the whole kissing thing. Then I pulled back. Greg smiled lopsidedly. We left the car and walked up to the door. Olaf had recently moved back in with Greg's Aunt Greta. A seriously crazy lady. I knocked on the door and not half a minute later, Greta answered.

"Oh, my goodness! Allie Moore!" She pulled me towards her for a hug. I gasped. I was surprised. Greta was about forty-five, with dyed-red hair and an odd, orange sweater. Usually she wore jeans. She was quite skinny and she had a great face. Good bone structure...obviously that was hereditary.

"Hi, Greta!" I choked out. Finally, she let go of me and moved onto Greg.

"And my favourite little boy! Oh! How are you?"

"I'm...fine, Aunt Greta! Um...is Papa Olaf in?"

"Oh, sure he is! Bingo is tomorrow night." She nodded, glancing around behind us. "Just you two?"

Me and Greg looked at each other and then back at Greta. "Just us." Wow! We said that in unison. Amazing.

Greta smiled. "Well, come on in, kids." She moved and allowed us to enter the room. The house was fantastically pretty. Big and old, it had a certain charm that nowhere else I had ever been in had. The ceilings were startlingly high and the floors were all oak and the furniture was so classy, it would have put Martha Stewart to shame. Now the thing I truly adored, was the baby grand piano in Papa Olaf's room. He used to play, according to Greg. And he was a master of he keys, apparently. Then his wife died and...well, he just gave up. Since then, the piano has been gathering dust in the bedroom. Greta thinks it's haunted, because one night she heard it being played. Not scary, right? Because Papa Olaf would have been there? No! He was at bingo.

"Uh, we brought you chocolates, Aunt Greta." Greg moved into the hall uncomfortably. I knew Greta absolutely terrified Greg. She was a disciplinarian. More so that his own mother. He told me about one time that his mother was out and he accidentally burnt his dinner, Aunt Greta yelled at him for twenty minutes straight. Then she burst into tears. So did Greg, except he went and hid in his closet for the rest of the night. I always felt really sad whenever he told me that. He says he had a great childhood, save for Greta.

"Thank you, Gregory, dear. Go on in..." She motioned to the sitting room. "I'm watching the TV upstairs."

I nodded and Greg thanked her. We went in to see Papa Olaf in the corner watching Scarface. I hadn't seen it before, but I knew that's what it was. Greg cleared his throat. Now, I must take a minute to describe Papa Olaf to you all; He's old, for a start. Really, _really_ old. But there isn't a single day of it on his face. Not one, honestly! He's got distinct features - like Greg - and gorgeous little eyes - like Greg -, not forgetting the same little lopsided grin as Greg. The similarities don't end there. Greg and Olaf have very much the same sense of humour. Olaf has grey hair, and Greg's a dirty-blonde/dark, depending on the bottle. Big ears and a broad nose are another of the similarities. I loved Papa Olaf. He seriously rocks. And so does Greg. Now, where was I? Oh, right...uh, so Greg cleared his throat and smiled. I actually had an image of Papa Olaf with an undercut. Olaf looked up. His hearing was perfect. In fact, he was healthier than me. I bit my lip. I always had a nervous feeling in Olaf's house, because I felt I had a lot to live up to. Some of the things Greg had told him...wow. I must have been pretty amazing. Well, to Greg, anyway.

"Hello, Greg...good evening, Beautiful." Olaf stood up - I'm telling you, the man _built_ the fountain of youth! - quickly and walked over to me and Greg. I grinned.

"Hey, Papa Olaf." Greg hugged him and smiled. He was very fond of Olaf.

"Hi!" I hugged him next. I saw the picture of Greg's grandma on the table next to Olaf's chair. It really scared me how alike we both looked. Cool, but freaky. "How are you, Olaf?"

"Ah, same old, same old. Not getting any younger." He smiled, cheekily and motioned for us to sit down.

"Oh, we brought you some stuff." Greg handed him the bag of, well, stuff we had collected for him. Olaf loved reading. Greg, kind of didn't...but apparently Olaf used to constantly read to him when he was a kid.

"Thank you...oh, Allie?"

"Yeah?" I was about to sit down, but thankfully I didn't.

"How would you like to put the kettle on?"

"Yeah, sure."

"That's okay, I can-" Greg started but Olaf shushed him and told me to go on ahead. I knew they were up to something, but I didn't know what, so I left the normal way, pretended to go into the kitchen and put the kettle on, and then I leant against the wall next to the door. I heard a lot of mumbles and whatnot, so I leant in closer.

"...did you ask her, yet?" Olaf. Fair enough. Could be anything.

"No! I can't get the right time...I was gonna do it later, but Nick, the guy at work, got kicked out of his house." What? Greg has something to ask 'her'? Who's 'her'? Could it be me?

"Well, you'll have to do it sometime, Greg." Olaf again.

Greg sighed. "Yeah...it's hard, you know. I don't even know what I'll say to her. I mean, I constantly think about her, I love her...and she's really pretty. So far, that's it."

"Hmm." I could almost see Olaf pondering away. "Well, take some time, think about it and then ask her. Whenever you feel like it, boy, do it."

Greg laughed. "Okay. But hey, what if the ring doesn't fit her? Then what?! I mean, it's not just like we can take it back..." The ring?! What ring? Oh, my God! Is he talking about what I think he's talking about? I smiled to myself. No way...could it be? No. Although, three years is a long time.

"Just...don't worry, Gregory. Whenever the notion takes you, just tell her."

"Even if we're at work?"

"Like I said, son..." Olaf laughed. "Whenever you feel that you're ready."

I gasped. I was still hanging out outside the door, but I didn't hear the rest of the conversation. All I knew was...

Gregory Sanders was going to propose.

To me.

More than likely, at work.

Suddenly, I felt like jumping up and down in the air.

**A/N: Ha! Cliffhanger! LOL. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter...took me a while to decide how this fic was gonna go...a bit cliche, but still. I thought it would be fun! Also, I wanted pure fluff for this story. What's more fluffy than an engagement? LOL. **

**Now I have an idea, I'll be able to write faster. So...any suggestions? If you do, send me them. **

**Please R&R...same to the people that have ben getting alerts on this particular fic...maybe you guys would like to come out and write me a wee review? Only if you feel like it, mind.**

**Have a great rest of the day,**

**JauntyChick**

**XOX**


	8. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

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I couldn't enjoy the rest of our Papa Olaf visit. Mostly because I had just found out the biggest secret of my life and then because I really, really couldn't keep the big, stupid grin off my face. Even when Olaf was giving us tales of his troubles as a boy, I just wanted to run up and hug him. Jeez, at this moment in time I would hug _Hodges_. I mean...how would you feel? Honestly. Me and Greg strode out of there about an hour and a half later. Olaf gave me a big hug and wished Greg good luck. Ha! As if he needed luck. I tapped my foot impatiently against my other leg as we drove home. I hadn't turned on the radio and I was busy looking out the window.

"Are...are you mad at me...Allie?" Greg asked, sensitively. I bolted back to the real world and grinned.

"No...no. Of course not. How could I be mad at you?" I leant over and touched his face. He smirked.

"Well, good. You know, I was getting kinda worried in there. Are you sure you're okay?"

"Positive." I cleared my throat. Now was definitely the time for the radio. "Uh...Greg...could we stop here?" I nodded to a small wooded area. Nicely lit, pretty.

He eyed me curiously then nodded. "Okay." So, we pulled over and my stomach was busy fluttering away nervously. I guessed I was nervous, because my hand was shaking and I had this horrible feeling of wanting to cry with happiness. Jeez, Allie. He hasn't even asked you yet! I cleared my throat. Greg unbuckled his belt, moved his seat back a little and turned round to face me. "What's wrong, Allie?"

"Nothing...I just...was wondering...do you need to ask me anything?"

Greg hesitated a second then smiled. "No...do you?"

Damn it, Sanders! I tutted. "Nope. Uh...are _you_ sure _you_ don't have any..._questions_?" I smiled, noticing the five-inch distance between us. He grinned.

"Nope. I'm sure."

Damn you, Greg. Damn you! I sighed, pondering my next move. So, I touched his arm...then squeezed as hard as I could. He winced. "Ow! Allie!" He flicked my hand away and rubbed his arm. "Jeez, what'd you do that for?!"

"Because! You've obviously got something to tell me and I really, really want to know! Please tell me, Greg!" I pouted, and he rolled his eyes.

"Yes, I do. But!" He held his index finger up to my face. "I am not telling you in a car."

"Aha...I was right."

"About what?" He glared at me. I bit my lip.

"Oho...you are in big trouble, Mister." I leant in kissed him. He frowned.

"Allie!" He half-yelled. I smirked.

"Yes, Gregory?"

"Did you hear anything when we were in Papa Olaf's house?"

"Hear anything like...?"

"Just, anything, Allie?! Seriously, I have to know." He pleaded with me. He was using that cute little face, so I laughed.

"Greg, you know I love you...and would never keep anything from you-"

I was cut off by Greg saying something in Norwegian and then opening his door. He wasn't really angry, which made me smile. I waited a few minutes before going outside and joining him at one of the little picnic tables next to the car. He let out a massive exhalation. "I can't find the right words. Otherwise I would've asked you yesterday. Or today. Maybe last week!" He threw his hands up, disgusted with himself.

"Greg..." My voice went all funny and high, but kind of low, too. Strange.

"Nevermind, Allie. You'd probably have said 'no' anyway."

I frowned. He was trying to tug at my heartstrings. Well, Sanders...it won't work! I sat down next to him - on my knees - and took his head in my hands. "What makes _you_ think that _I_ would say no to you?"

"Well, you're...like, you! You're smart, pretty..." He groaned, elaborately. I smirked. "Girls like you don't like boys like me."

"Oh, my God!" I yelled. "Have the three years we've been going out meant _nada_ to you? Seriously, if I hated you, I wouldn't be with you. As is, I absolutely adore you." I kissed him on the cheek. I actually think I was quite in love with his cologne. "You're a brilliant dude, Greg...I can't imagine my life without you..." I kissed all down the rest of his cheek. Then I stopped at his neck. I grinned. "And yes. The answer...is yes."

Greg pulled away a little. "What?"

"I said, yes I will marry you, Greg."

Greg grinned widely and then squeezed me tightly. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" He kissed me, gently but...wow. I wrapped my arms around his neck, playing with the bit of hair at the top of his head. It stuck up very well indeed. "I love you!" He exclaimed after breaking us apart for a spilt-second. I laughed.

"Yeah, me too..." I went back to kissing along his collar. We continued on kissing for about half an hour, by which time, Nick was probably thinking we got kidnapped or something. "Greg, we should..." I was cut off by Greg promptly placing his hands on the small of my back...under my shirt. Wow. I cleared my throat, laughing slightly. "Gregory Sanders!" I shrieked. Immediately, he jumped back. "We have to go! Dude, it's..._way _after midnight."

"So?" Greg asked, seriously irked.

"Nick! He'll be worried!"

"Oh..." Greg finally caught on. I arched my eyebrow. He nodded. Then he stopped nodding, pouted and looked up at me. "Five more minutes?"

"Oh!" I rolled my eyes. "Fine!" He returned to my neck, but I pulled back and pointed my finger at him. "_Only_ five minutes. I _am _timing you."

"Yeah, sure you are." He laughed.

Damn Greg Sanders.

I giggled.

Why does he have to be so damn perfect?!

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**A/N: Hi!**

**Okay, so I am completely and absolutely in love with this chapter! Fluff and all! Except...maybe it could have been longer? Ah, well. Hope you guys liked it!**

**Please read and review...tell all your friends, make sure to get an alert on the story...actually, please just read it. I really don't mind what you guys do afterwards...I'm just too damn happy with this chapter!!**

**Ooh, now my jaw hurts...ow...**

**Have a fantabulous rest of the day!**

**JauntyChick**

**XOX**


	9. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

(WARNING: _**FLUFF**_! Pure, unadulterated FLUFF! One again, Dudes, **FLUFF**! Enjoy it!)

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I woke up the next morning with my head rested on Greg's shoulder. I smiled, lifting my head up, also noting that he was smiling lightly. I grinned and nestled back down. I enjoyed lying next to Greg, just plain-old listening to him making odd little noises while he slept.

"Good morning, Miss Moore."

I opened my eye and looked up. He _always_ does that to me! "Good morning, Mr. Sanders." I stretched my arm over Greg's chest. My lilac nightgown was very soft, I managed to note. All of my thoughts first thing in the morning tend to be uber-simple. First, check if Greg's next to you; second, make sure that your hair looks good; third, check if Greg's hair looks good. The rest of the morning generally turns out great. And yes, Greg's hair is perfect. He put an arm around me, so I inched in closer to him. "Oh, it's cold..." I yawned. Greg sat up a little and pulled the large, thirteen-tog duvet. Oh, it was amazing. I sighed, contentedly.

"Okay, I have another hour of sleeping to do. Night." Greg closed his eyes and yawned. I got up quickly, went over to the bathroom, got cleaned up a little - had a shower, washed my hair, brushed my teeth - and came back over to the bed. Mornings off absolutely rock, I decided. Greg was snoring softly. I nudged him slightly.

"Greg..." I extended the word. His eyes fluttered open slightly. I smiled. "Greggo...hey, babe, wake up."

"No..." He groaned. He was such a baby when it came to his sleep. "One...more...hour."

"Now, Greg...come on." I shook him gently.

"Allie." He muttered, turning onto his stomach. I bit my lip and started trailing my finger up his broad, large back. He sighed and turned round to face me. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just...hi." I grinned at him. He gave me a quirky smile and touched my hair.

"You smell nice. Like...peaches."

"Oh, uh...thank...you?" I sat up in the bed, opening my drawer to find none other than an orange. Score one for Moore! I started peeling the skin of it. Oranges...so much taste, such a tiny, amazing little ball of...well, taste, I suppose. "So," I put one of the lovely segments into my mouth. This was a nice, juicy one. "How about...we go to the, uh, CD place before work? I need the new Killers CD. B-sides. Rarities. Amazing!"

"Mm." Greg mumbled into his pillow, stretching. "Okay...anything you want."

"Really?" I laughed. "Anything? Oh. Well, in that case-" My thoughts - were interrupted by a noise outside. Nick. I pulled my sleeve up quickly and hollered out for Nick to come in. He opened the door, gingerly. He poked his head through, then, smiling lightly.

"Mornin', Allie. Uh, I was wondering...could I use the shower, please?"

"Nick!" I glared. "Of course you can, Nicky. Can't he, Greggo."

Greg groaned, turned round and sat up. He rubbed his eyes, making him look like a raccoon. "Okay, I'm awake. Yes, Nick. You can use the shower as long as Allie says it's okay." Greg yawned and stretched. Nick smiled.

"Thanks. Be back in twenty." Fair play to Nick. He was very good, always asking to use things, and always remembering to thank me and Greg after using them.

"Allie?" Greg asked me, frowning slightly.

"Yes, babe?"

"Are we...I mean, don't take this the wrong way, or anything, but are we...engaged?" He asked, gently.

I giggled.

"Greg! Do you not remember? Honestly, you are _hopeless_!" I rolled over onto him and kissed him. He wrapped his arms round my waist. I then rolled back over, much to Greg's disappointment, and got out of the bed, carefully re-making my side back up. I found my clean clothes hidden under the bed. A nice, tight, grey skirt and a red blouse. I took my nightgown off, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Greg, did you know that seventy-eight people a year die of Twister - as in the game - related accidents? Yeah, Warrick told me."

"Really?"

"Yep. And, if you think about it, Twister is a lot like getting change- ooh..." I was stopped by Greg's hands on my shoulders.

"Should I stop?" He asks, and I can almost see him smiling at me. I shake my head frantically.

"No...that's so nice." I was absolutely loving the way that Greg's hands were sending little electronic sparks throughout my skin. I fluttered, shivered...man, it was great. But I remembered that I had stuff to do today. Stuff like work, for instance, and then maybe the fact that I'm engaged to Gregory Sanders would finally sink in. I mean, it's one thing living with him and all, but actually getting married. It's like a huge, gigantic commitment. I absolutely loved the idea! I stood up, grinning. "I love you!"

"Jeg elsker deg, to you, too." He smirked and winked at me. I rolled my eyes. I had tried many times to come to grips with the Norse language. I'm awful! Then, a lightbulb seemed to appear at the top of his head, as he held his index finger up at me again. Suddenly, he glanced under the bed and pulled out the box. "Now..." He started fidgeting with the lock. "Hold onto your hat, Allie...I'm opening the box." He grinned to the one side of his mouth. I gasped.

"No way!"

"Oho, way." He pulled the box open and started rifling through it. Papers, bits and bobs like sewing needles, bobbins, rings, necklaces...all the usual kinds of things you'd expect to find in a family heirloom. Then, he popped a tiny button and out comes the bottom section. "Alright..." Greg cleared his throat. He then pulled out a tiny red box. I grinned wildly.

"Greggo...is this...what I think it is?"

"Well, if you think it's a small turkey, then you'd be wrong." He teased, opening the box. He then inhaled and exhaled sharply, blinking. "Okay." I sat up in the middle of the bed in front of Greg, on my knees. He placed one hand on my hip and stared right into my eyes. I almost died right there and then. "I...I love you, and I think you are, like, _perfection_. You're gorgeous, funny...smart."

"Oh, I try!" I added quickly, blushing furiously. Greg grinned. "Carry on."

"Alison Moore, would you do me the incredible honour of becoming my wife?" He opened the little red box. I gasped dramatically. It was a lovely, slim Sterling Silver ring. A medium little diamond thing was in the center. It was absolutely the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I guess I was too quiet for Greg, who was still in front of me, looking nervous. "I-is it okay?"

"Okay?" I squeaked. "Greg, it's the prettiest thing I've ever seen!" I slipped the ring onto my finger. Fitted like a glove. "And yes, I absolutely will marry you! Even without the ring, yes!" I giggled, jumping on top of him and kissing him madly. He laughed.

"Ooh, glad to hear you're not with me for my prospects..."

"Oh, Greg...What prospects?" We laughed and I continued kissing him. And he kissed me.

And there was no other way I would have it.

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**A/N: LOL! Okay, I think I've just died and gone to squee Heaven. Wow. I'm such a sap! **

**Anyway, please R&R because I am **_**immensely**_** happy with this chapter.**

**Have a fabulous rest of the day,**

**JauntyChick**

**XOX**


	10. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

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I dashed into the lab and ran down the hall to Grissom's office. Greg was slacking behind, although there was a certain spring in his step, too. I managed to compose myself a little bit before I knocked. Grissom looked up and motioned for me to come in. I opened the door and sat down. The smile still hadn't been wiped off my face.

"Alison." He greeted. "What can I do for you?"

I grinned so much that my face was actually sore. I bobbed my head so as I was staring at my lap. "Grissom..." I put my hand on the desk. My hand with the ring, of course. Slowly, he took his glasses off. "Not a thing!"

"What's this?"

I frowned. "I-it's a ring. Greg's grandmother's ring, to be precise." Grissom made an 'o' with his mouth.

"Congratulations are in order, then?"

"Oh, yes." I laughed, sitting back in the chair and examining the ring. I sighed. "Grissom, I can't actually think on a time when I have smiled _this_ much. Genuinely."

"Well, that's good." He glanced behind me and I noticed Sara standing outside tapping on the door and grinning. "Could you excuse me a moment?"

"Sure, I have to go and tell Catherine, anyway. Bye!" I hugged him and ran out the door. Sara greeted me, politely. "Hi. Hey, Sara, I'm engaged!"

Oh, now this got her. Her mouth almost fell to ground. "Really?"

"Yes! Isn't it great?!"

"It is!" She hugged me. "Congratulations. Where's the lucky boy?"

"Oh, he was off to call his Mom and Dad. Uh, I have to go. Good luck!" I patted her on the back and ran off to the break room.

Well, what a day!

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I poured myself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table next to Nick, Catherine and Warrick. Warrick, who was beside me, was the first to notice the ring.

"Allie Moore, is there something you're not telling me?" He put his own cup of coffee down and smirked. I, who was busy flaunting my ring by holding the cup in a certain way so as _everyone_ could see it, nodded.

"I think you may be onto something, Rick."

Nick gasped. "No way! When did this happen?"

"Well, this morning, really. I kind of...over-heard him and Papa Olaf last night, and then, uh, I guess I may have let it slip and he proposed." My heart fluttered as I saw Greg, grinning, open the door to the break room. All four of us looked up at him. He scoffed.

"You told them?!"

"Yes! I couldn't wait all day for you!"

"Oh, you two kids..." Catherine grinned and tapped Nick's shoulder. "Must be nice to be that young and that much in love." She shook her head. Nick tutted.

"I know. Disgusting, isn't it?"

Warrick laughed. "Well, I wish you guys all the best, but I'm on a case. I'll see you at lunch." He bent over slightly and hugged me, before slapping Greg on the back. Greg shrugged and sat down next to me.

"Hey." He smiled, staring at me. Catherine and Nick both groaned.

"Hey, come on! Give us a break." Nick drank the last little bit of his coffee and stood up. "There _are_ still single people in the room."

"Wasn't that your excuse the other night?"

"So? It's still valid." He patted me on the shoulder and headed to the door. "You coming, Cath?"

"Yep." Catherine sighed. "Another day of hard, evil labour. Congrats." She scoffed and wandered off with Nick.

Greg leant in and kissed me. "Hello. How are you feeling?"

"I'm feelin' great. Has, uh," I scratched the side of my face quickly. "Has being engaged changed you...in any way? Do you feel different?"

Greg smiled at me and then shrugged. "No. Do you?"

"Absolutely not. Are we supposed to?"

"Maybe." He grinned. "So, uh, my mom wants us over for dinner tonight."

"Excellent!" I giggled. "Of course, I'll have to tell _my_ mom." I banged my head on the table, and it happened to be a lot more painful than I expected. Greg laughed and took my hand, gently squeezing it.

"You know, I actually had a thought."

I looked up, dying not to laugh. "Really? A real thought?!"

He glared at me. "No, I was actually thinking, how about winter?"

"Um...I like winter. I-it's cold. It's pretty...what about it?"

"For the wedding. I always liked the idea of a winter wedding, type thing..." He trailed off, slightly embarrassed.

"Oh, you...big girl!" I laughed. Greg folded his arms. I stopped. "Okay, sorry. Uh, winter weddings are the bomb. How about...the 22nd?"

Greg's face lit up. "Yeah! That's, uh," He glanced down at his watch, doing the math. I absolutely adored the way Greg always double-checked everything. And the way he got so thoroughly excited about these little tiny things. The eye-twinkle amazed me. "Saturday. Perfect. Have I told you lately that-"

"You love me?" He furrowed his brows, confused. I rolled my eyes. "Uh, continue on."

"No, I was actually going to say that Papa Olaf _only_ attends weddings held on Saturdays. He thinks it's the only way couples will have good luck. Saturday and Tuesday."

I laughed. "Well, I'll take my chances with Saturday. Okay, I have to go and actually do some work." I kissed him and hesitated a moment. "Maybe you should take the ing, in case I lose it."

Greg shrugged and held out his hand. "Mm-kay. But, so as you know, I'm very bad at remembering where I put things."

I glared. "Greg, I know. I live with you."

"Just checking. Oh! And I already have my best men picked out."

I arched my eyebrow. "Best _men_? I was only gonna have one bridesmaid. Maybe two, at most. At a push."

"Oh." His face fell a little. My heart lurched. His little sad face _always_ got to me. I shrugged.

"Okay, two. At least two each."

"Great! But, uh, I was gonna have Warrick, Nick and Henry."

"Henry?" I gasped. I mean, I did _want_ nice wedding pictures.

"Yeah. Who were you gonna have?"

"Michelle. Maybe Catherine, possibly Sara. Or Susie. Maybe even Frank or Dylan."

He wrinkled his nose "Frank, Dylan...and _Susie_?"

"Yep. I could have a boy-maid if I wanted. And what's wrong with Susie? She's _your_ sister."

"Well, _yeah_, but...she's huge. She won't fit into the pictures."

I folded my arms. "So? What have you got against the larger woman?"

His eyes widened majorly. He held his hands up, Blue Hawaiian instantly forgotten. "No, no! Nothing! I was...uh, I just meant...she-she's lovely, a-and so are you-"

Oh, too easy, Greg! I knew my next move would make him squirm. "What?!" I gasped, dramatically. "Are you saying what I think you're saying, Gregory? I'm a 'large' woman?"

I could almost see his heart explode. "No! Allie, size ten isn't large, and I certainly didn't mean..." He rambled on very, very quickly for another minute and a half before I burst out laughing. He had sidled closer to me and put a hand on my waist. Difficult as I was seated.

"Greg!" I giggled. "I know, I was kidding!"

He frowned. "What?"

"I was joking with you." I touched his face. "Dude, it's okay."

A nervous smile came over his lips and then it vanished quickly. I pulled him towards me and kissed him frantically. He pulled away. "I. Am. _So_ sorry!"

I furrowed my brows. "Oh, baby...you know me better than that! Surely. I hope, anyway." Then a thought crossed my mind. "But, just to be safe...what's my favourite colour?"

"Pink."

"Film?"

"Uh, it varies, but mostly Singin' in the Rain."

"Good boy." He winked. "How about...favourite CD?"

"The Killers, 'Hot Fuss'. The second one disappointed you somewhat and The Smiths' 'The Queen is Dead' is another one of your favourites." Greg added, obviously feeling smug with himself.

"Favourite band, male and female artists and song?"

He groaned. "Fall Out Boy, Otis Redding, Pat Benetar and..." Greg was wracking his brain at this point. Easy enough, really. "Probably...something cheesy..."

"Whoa! I do not like cheesy songs, but continue."

"Either 'Pain in my Heart', 'Respect', 'Try a Little Tenderness', 'Heartbreaker', 'A Little Less Sixteen Candles...', 'Maria' by Blondie or...uh, 'CrushCrushCrush' by Paramore."

Wow. I was thoroughly impressed. He did know me. "Favourite food?"

"Creme brulee and ice cream."

"Favourite TV show?"

"The Waltons."

Ha! He is amazing. "Favourite item of clothing?"

"Uh...either your pink bed-socks or your Vans."

"Correct. Favourite book?"

"Could be...'A Christmas Carol', by Charles Dickens or 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory' by Roald Dahl. His parents were Norwegian." He beamed.

I glared at him. "Yes, and I know." I quickly looked at my watch. "Uh, one more..."

"Oh, hit me with your best shot, Al." He leant forward, smug little grin on his face. I rolled my eyes.

"Fine. Who...is my all-rounf favourite person ever?"

"Easy." He sat back. "Me."

I giggled. "Nope. Santa." With that, I kissed him, surprisingly enough - he put his hand on my back and drew me in closer...amazingly fabulous it was, too. I pulled away.

"Hey!" He hollered.

"What?" I stood up. "I have work to do. Bye!" I placed my hand on his chest and walked off, trailing my hand as I went. I knew he was busy grinning to himself as I left. And then I had a thought following a strange flutter.

Words could _not_ describe how much I love that boy.

Not a word. Not that I hadn't tried to think of one.

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**A/N: Hola!**

**Wow. Is it me or are my endings getting worse?! Anyways, more Grallie fluff...but there may be trouble ahead. Good trouble though, and her name is Ashley. But don't worry, our Greg does **_**not**_** like her. Repeat: He hates her! **

**Well, we got our Christmas tree up and it is **_**fabulous!**_** It is **_**absolutely**_** the best tree we've ever had. Amazing! I may even love it slightly more than this pink laptop. Or maybe not...probably they are on a par with each other. **

**Please R&R, and ooh, tell all your friends!!! **

**Have an excellent rest of the day,**

**JauntyChick**

**XOX**


	11. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

**(Allie POV for the first part, but will switch to Third Person afterwards. Sorry for the long wait...hope it's worth it! Enjoy :)**

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Imagine my surprise when I got back to the lab the week after that and there was a newbie. A _newbie_ in my lab, doing _my_ job. I had taken a week off, trying to sort a few things, price around and whatnot. Anyway, it was cool with me and all, but a heads-up from Grissom or Smith would have been nice. She's short, short, but uber-skinny; she talks a lot - to _Greg_; she swims, scuba-dives, walks and hardly eats anything; she's well-tanned - from a bottle - and wears a fair amount of make-up and she doesn't like me or any of the other females in the lab. Sure, she'll give us a report on the results and everything, but that's as far as it goes. She flirts unashamedly and wears clothes that are far too revealing to be good for a person, and she's too talkative to concentrate. A bad case of ADHD if ever I've seen one. Her name is Ashley Kelly, and she is definitely trouble. I walked into the lab and sat down in my lovely, comfy chair. It was soft, smelt nice and was good if you had a sore back.

"Whoa, whoa! No, no, no, no, no!" Ashley cam running in from the corridor. I swear she was stalking me. Or Greg. Probably the latter. "You can't sit there!" She has a squeak for a voice, too. I rolled my eyes.

"Why not?"

"Because that's _my_ seat." She squinted at me, hands on her hips. A thoroughly aggressive stance.

"Really?" I asked her. She nodded. "Well, here's something: I've been sitting here since I started working in this lab. That's, what, three and a half years? Four, maybe?"

Ooh, then she glared. A pretty damn scary thing. I wasn't _trying_ to make her mad, but it was my chair. I like my chair, and would fight to the death for it. Well, maybe that's going a _little_ too far... "Sorry, Moore. It helps my back." She gives me an expression that reads 'butter wouldn't melt'. Jeez, what an annoyance.

"Yeah, _I_ know." Helps mine, too. That is how I know!

"Well, you can have that other one. In the corner." She pointed to the old, hole-covered tatty thing in the corner. It's a mess masquerading as a chair. If I were to sit on it, I'd break it. And I'm only a size ten! Ashley flashed me a false smile and turned on her heel after some random lab-dude. I sighed, gritted my teeth and got to work on the DNA that Catherine had assigned me on. Catherine, too, had been having issues with Ashley. She had 'forgotten' to give her the test results back. I was always present and correct three minutes after the results. So was Greg. Ashley pretty much didn't do much lab work, so I didn't have to have too many dealings with her. When I did, though...urgh! Let me change the subject. Greg appeared by my side and gave me a kiss on the cheek. Immediately, my angry thoughts subsided and back came the little, floaty, happy thoughts. Greg had a way of doing that to me. I had been trying to go out with him for the four days that Ashley had been here, except she always had something that needed fixing. Like a microscope, or the computer...and here come the angry thoughts. I cleared my throat.

"Hi, Greg."

"Hey. What's crackin'?" He asked me, smiling. I smiled right back at him.

"Not much...uh, trying to see if this is a match..." I dropped the tiny amount of epithelials onto a glass sheet and placed it under the scope. It is a match to the suspect, I knew it! Score one to Allie. "You on a break?"

"Yeah, Grissom told me to go away for a while."

"Hmm." I wasn't paying enough attention to Greg. But I was busy. What can you do. When I looked up, I found him staring intently at my chest, which - unbeknownst to me! - had been on show for a short while. Stupid material! Too floppy. Definitely too floppy. Stupid red, lacy bra. Oh, not good. I blushed and quickly pulled it up. "You did _not_ just see that."

"Oho, you can't erase _that_ image from my mind," Greg muttered to himself. I swallowed and bit my lip. He started playing with one of the pens on my desk. "You know...I don't think I'm doing anything for lunch...wanna go out?"

"Yeah, sure." I stopped. "Unless Ashley needs something fixed."

Greg sighed. "Yeah. Unless." Oh, poor Greg. I shouldn't have said that. "Anyway, we're having dinner at the folks' house tonight."This brightened him up slightly. Greg's family was great! His mom, dad, aunt, grandpa, niece - all of them. Really cool and weird.

"Cool. Your family rocks."

Greg eyed me, curiously. "Allie, you are one seriously odd chick." He stood up and walked back up to me. "But I love you for it." Then he kissed me. I held onto his arm, made a note of what I was doing and then I kissed him back, before quickly clearing things up.

"Take it easy, honey." I smiled at him, and he grinned back at me. Oh... "I love you." He nodded and then headed out of the door. I looked out, and noticed that he was quickly assaulted by Ashley. I slammed the notepad in my hand down on the table.

Stupid Ashley.

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(Third Person, woo!)

Greg was annoyed. He was being stalked, for one. For another, he hadn't spent any time with his fiancé since the stalker arrived. A moment to himself in the locker room would have been nice, too. Anytime he asked Allie out, Ashley would come along and ask him to help her. What could he say? 'Uh, I don't like you, so..._no_.' No, not his style. He was too gentlemanly, he decided. He hated how Nick and Warrick had ribbed him for having a thing for Ashley. He didn't. She wasn't his type. She's too short, too chirpy...even too skinny. He liked having something to hold onto on a girl. Allie was perfect for him. She was slender, but also curvaceous. Ashley also wore _way_ too much make-up, pondering the question - what's she like to wake up next when her face is permanently ensconced onto the pillow-case. He would just have to put up with her, though. Then of course, he had marriage to consider. Don't get him wrong, he was looking forward to it. But...what if Allie didn't show? Did she really love him? He loves her. He loves her so much that sometimes he walks by the lab just to get a small glimpse at her. He did this...what, eight times a day? Sometimes more, even. It sounded cheesy when he thought about it, but that's what it was. A dull ache in his chest/stomach whenever he saw her. Having to mentally kick himself is she kissed him. Pure torture whenever she was getting changed in the locker room. He'd been in love before, or so he thought. He'd never had a feeling like this. This was...epic, almost. He leant back onto the bench in the locker room. Stupid Ashley.

Why were things never as easy as they appear on TV?

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(There...back to Allie POV, woo!)

I had a chat with Catherine, who was over the moon that I had broken her case. I know, right? How cool am I and all that jazz...but I had the shock of my life when I turned round in the break room to see my mother standing there, big grin on her face.

"Allie, baby!" She pulled me into a tight hug. Again, imagine my surprise.

"Mom!" I laughed, nervously. "What are you doing here?"

She pulled away from me and glared. "Thanks for the nice reception. Actually, I'm here to help you buy a dress."

I furrowed my brows. What _was_ she talking about? "I..have dresses, though."

She laughed. "Oh, dear...a _wedding_ dress."

Oh! That kind of dress. Now I was with her. "Oh. Right. Well." I glanced at my watch. "You're in luck, I'm on lunch." Supposed to be with Greg. Jeez, if it isn't Ashley, it's my mom. Of all the luck, huh? Greg, thankfully, walked in.

"Hey, Bonnie!" He walked over and kissed my mother on the cheek. What a poser. "What are you doing here?"

"Helping my daughter buy a dress. May I say, Gregory, you are getting better-looking by the day." Oh! She did not just say that. I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, yeah...oh, Greg." I put an arm around him. "I'm gonna have to take a rain-check on lunch...sorry." I kissed him on the cheek and he nodded. Ashley came sauntering in. God, what a buzzkill. Can she not leave us alone for three minutes?!

"Oh, hi there. Who are you?" She immediately homed in on Mom.

"I could ask you the same thing." Ooh, you go Mom!

"Mom, this is Ashley Kelly. She's a new lab-rat. Ash, this is my mother. Bonnie Mullins."

Ashley started sucking up to Mom, but she wasn't having any of it. "We'd better go before your hour's up, dear." Mom put her arm around me and walked me out. I said goodbye to Greg and so did she. Ashley was slightly annoyed, too, by Mom. God knows what got into my parental unit.

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Wedding dress shopping is _not_ fun. Don't let anybody tell you anything otherwise. There are so many types of dresses! Flouncy, meringue, A-line, sequined, sleeves, no-sleeves...jeez, my head was starting to hurt just thinking about them. Mom had a pretty good idea of what _she_ wanted. What I wanted, however, was a plain nice dress. She wanted sequins, A-line, not low-cut. Man...

"How about this one here, dear?" She pointed to a big ball-gown type of affair. It was beautiful, but just a bit out of my price range. A lot out of my price range.

"Yeah, it's nice."

"Nice? Oh, my gosh! What about this! Or this?!" She was busy pointing away, and all I could think about was what kind of cake I could make. Priorities. I giggled to myself as I saw the perfect dress. It was amazing! Plain, pretty...nothing on it - just white, with a few shiny bits. Expensive, though.

"Hey, Mom...what's wrong with this one?" I pointed it out to my mother, who gave me a shrug in return.

"Nothing. If your name's Jane." She flounced over and showed me another couple of dresses, all of which were far too pricey. I decided that I would take Michelle shopping with me. She's my maid of honour, so she gets to do a lot of the major decision making. For the minute, though, Mom had been unsuccessful. I told her we'd go back tomorrow and then she set off to Dylan and Frank's house. The other kid had moved out, so there was a spare room. And Mom had brought Carl, which was cool. I would never have suspected the next thing to happen. And my guess is, neither would you.

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I was driving along, merrily listening to my Otis Redding CD. It was great. 'Pain in my Heart'. Classic song. The next thing, some car from across the road just smashed into me. My side, too. I wasn't angry but I was very shocked. The driver just took off, which was peculiar. My poor car was badly, badly dented and the car would _not_ start. Probably need a new door. I called the lab, hoping to get Greg, but he was out somewhere, so I managed to get Grissom who was coming to pick me up. I was shaken, but I was still pondering about the cake. Why could I not get the stupid cake out of my head?!?! I was sat on the pavement when Grissom drew up about half an hour later. I was thinking madeira. Maybe fruit cake. No, madeira.

"Alison, are you okay?" Grissom rolled his window down. I nodded, got my things and stood up.

"I nearly got killed." I smiled. He nodded. I went round to the other side and got in. I felt like an ass. "Thanks for giving me a life, Grissom."

"No problem. What were you doing here?"

"Buying a dress. Trying to, anyway."

"Ah." So, we chatted away until we got back to the lab. I got severely mocked when I got back. Mostly by Nick. Greg was extremely concerned. We got into the locker room and the first thing he did was pull me into a majorly tight hug. I felt extremely happy when he did that.

"What happened?"

"Oh, some dude crashed into me. I'm fine." I wasn't having a good day, by anyone's standards. Hopefully the evening would be better.

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By the evening, I was enraged. Fully, completely, utterly _enraged_. Ashley had been pestering Greg all day, flaunting and flashing herself at him. I wasn't a jealous person, but that was too much. My computer wasn't working, because Ashley had been looking up cheap flights to somewhere foreign. Honestly, I was beginning to wonder why anyone employed her.

"Allie, could I maybe just get into your computer for a second?" She bit the top of her finger, leaning over my counter and revealing way too much cleavage. I rolled my eyes.

"You broke it. Isn't that good enough?"

"I never broke it! It just...crashed."

"Yeah, and lost some information that I needed." I snapped, but then I stopped and wondered what the hell I was doing. "Look, you go home for the day. I'll see you tomorrow." Ashley scowled, collected her stuff and stormed out. Such an emotional little person. I frowned as my CD player ceased working. "Oh, _excellent_." Just then, Nick came back into the lab.

"Hey, Allie."

"What is it, Nick?" Ooh, I probably, sort of, snapped that one out. Nick took a step back.

"I was wondering if you had my results back from the blood we collected at the Kensington murder case?"

"What blood?" I sighed. Nick blinked and furrowed his brows.

"The sample I left in here earlier, with Ashley?" He cocked his head, questioningly. I groaned.

"I wasn't here, earlier. Ashley never said anything and I just sent her home...sorry Nick. I am, really, really sorry." I picked up the phone and started calling Ashley. Just then, Sara swanned in.

"Allie! Where are my results? I asked for them _four_ hours ago. Ashley said she'd send me them straight away. You know..._tickety-boo_?" Sarcasm dripped from Sara's words as she folded her arms. My heart sank as Warrick entered with a serious frowny-face.

"Moore, are those prints back, _yet_? I tried calling Ashley, but she's not picking up. I left them with her, but..." He shook his head. I felt myself getting hotter, slightly flustered. Where had Greg been during this time? Oh, yeah...he was out with Catherine. Damn it!

"Uh, right...sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry to all of you." I laughed nervously. My hand was shaking, my throat was dry...I felt terrible. I honestly could've cried. Or screamed. Greg came waling in, then.

"Hey, are we ready to go?" Aw, his little face! I remembered we were having dinner with his family.

"Sorry, babe, you'll have to go without me. I'm sort of...piled under."

"Oh." He frowned. But quickly regained a smile. A fake one, probably, but still. "Okay, well...see you at home?"

I almost burst into tears right there. I missed Greg, so much. I missed spending time with him and I missed going out with him. "Yeah. Bye." My voice was just above a whisper as he walked out. Nick, Sara and Warrick all exchanged a look at me and I quickly turned round, wiping the tear that was making it's way out of my eye. I cleared my throat. "Okay!" I exclaimed, cheerily. "Uh, Nick...you are the prints, right?"

Nick shook his head, bemused look on his face. "No, I-I was the blood. Kensington case?"

I nodded. "Right, right, yeah. Sorry. Uh, Sara, _you_ were what again, sorry?"

Sara's face softened. "I was the sample of urine from the Richardson case."

I nodded. "Warrick?"

"Set of prints to be checked in the database. I didn't have the time, but I guess I could-"

"No, no. I'll get to it. I am incredibly sorry for the delay, uh...I'll get right on it..._Nick._ No, Warrick..." I fumbled about with some swabs and stuff, but I couldn't concentrate. I was tired, hungry, angry. I felt sick and I felt like crying. I was humiliated, too. This was Ashley's fault, no doubt about it. Sara came up beside me.

"It's okay, I'll run it." She had a look through a collection of samples and picked out the urine. Warrick went to the computer and ran the prints himself. I managed to do the blood from the Kensington case for Nick without pulling any of my hair out. Sara's was positive for cocaine, Warrick's prints were successful and Nick's blood was victim blood, which meant he had the murderer. Basically, it was all good. For them. I had missed lunch and dinner with Greg. I hadn't got a dress, cause they were too expensive and I nearly got killed. What a brilliant day. I waled into the locker room and opened my locker. I pulled out my water and took a sip. I felt terrible, still. Nick came into the locker room a while later. David, the day-shift lab-tech, had taken over from me for a while. I owed him big-time.

"Hey, Allie. Are you okay?"

I nodded. The tears on my face were saying something a bit different, though. "Yeah, I guess."

"Don't worry about the results. I'm sure it won't happen again."

"Yeah. Probably not."

"And the dress...well, Catherine could help you out for that."

"Mm. I'm sure." I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry, shout, punch someone! Well, maybe not the latter, but damn close to it. "Nick, could you give me a ride home, please?"

"Yeah, sure. Hold on a second..." He shut his locker and put his wallet back in his pocket. "Allie, you need to have a rest. Maybe another few days off, get yourself sorted out."

"I'm fine, Nick."

"Okay, okay. Come on..." So, we drove back to Greg's apartment and Greg wasn't back yet. Nick went back to his own house so I had a bath, watched some TV, made some food. I calmed down and felt a bit better.

Scratch that; I felt _great_!

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**A/N: Hola!**

**I am so, so sorry for the really, uber-long wait for this chapter. I was busy with Headstrong, so I have now had a plot bunny attacking me for this one. I was trying to illustrate that Allie is stressed and Ashley's a man-eater. Did that come through okay, LOL?! I planned fluff for the next chapter. Grallie fluff. Is there **_**anything**_** better?! **

**Happy belated Christmas, by the way. Hope you guys all had a great one. And a very, very happy new year! I got CSI: Miami for Christmas. It rocks! Ooh, and House series three. Yay! Well, technically that was my mum, but still - Yay!**

**Have a great rest of the day,**

**JauntyChick**

**XOX**


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Chapter Eleven**

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**(Third Person fluffy angst. Flangst, I believe they call it. enjoy :)**

Allie was lying on the bed, watching MTV in her silky, light-pink slip when Greg rolled in, slightly tired. Nick had dropped her off, telling her that he was staying with Warrick for the night. Tine was away, obviously. Allie was half asleep and trying to keep her eyes open. Greg smiled at her, but he noticed that she'd been crying. He hated it when she cried, because he knew exactly why: she always took too much stuff on. Wether it was work, personal or anything else, she definitely needed to relax. She wasn't depressed - she didn't get depressed, she pretty much just got angry - but she wasn't happy, either. She was worried. Not half as worried as Greg, though. "Hey." He greeted her, cheerily. She smiled back at him. "You okay?"

Allie nodded. "Mm. Tired, is all. How's your family?"

"Good. They were worried about you." So was he. "Allie, could we talk?"

"Yeah." No. She knew there was a mini-lecture on it's way. Greg took his jacket off and sat on the end of the bed, next to her.

"You know, I don't like it when you don't tell me about these things."

"What things?"

Greg started unbuttoning his shirt. "When you're stressed."

Allie laughed. "Believe me, Greg...I'd never be done." She was deflecting.

"Allie." Greg said, softly. He pulled his trousers off and climbed into the bed, placing his arm around Allie. "Just, talk to me...I'm a good listener." He grinned, hoping to cheer her up, slightly. Little did he know that anytime he even looked at her, it cheered her up. She was a happy person, although worrying was definitely her biggest fault. Generally when she was this stressed, she and Greg wouldn't speak very much to each other at all. Greg hated it. He hated the silence more than anything. But he didn't like the fact that Allie worked through it all by herself, never letting him in. He just wished she would. He knew - and he supposed she did, too - that it would do her good to let her feelings out.

"Okay...uh, Ashley pretty much left me with all of her work to be done. I sent her home because she was annoying me and then...everyone came in and started asking me about the results." Her voice cracked and she started crying, quietly. "Uh, then it was as if...I couldn't really breathe properly. Um..." She shifted herself in closer to Greg. He turned his light off beside her. The room was dimly lit, just perfect. It was cool enough, giving Allie a chance to actually inhale and exhale without interruption. "I started looking for samples and stuff, but I couldn't concentrate. I-I just...I couldn't do it, Greg." She brought her eyes up to Greg, who was staring down at her concernedly. "Just had a bad day, was all." She wiped her eyes and lay down flat on the bed, Greg doing the same. "Ugh, and me and Mom went dress shopping. Greg, we can't spend two-thousand dollars on a dress!"

"Course we can."

"No, Greg. We really can't. I mean, once we're married, we'll have to move out, then we'll have kids, a-and then what? A dog, and a mortgage, maybe more kids..." Greg let her ramble on for another twelve minutes about random things she'd been worrying about and then he stopped her before she had heart-failure.

"Look, Allie...we'll manage. We've done pretty well so far, haven't we?" Greg placed his hand on her waist. Allie nodded, hesitantly. "Besides, I've been saving since I was in college. Probably have more than you'd think. Don't worry about the prices. Mortgages are fun. Uh...we don't need a dog quite yet." Allie laughed. "If you want...I could tell Ashley to leave you alone-"

"No, Greg, no..." She was about to ramble again, he knew.

Greg put a finger to Allie's lips, shushing her. "Shoosh. If you keep worrying about things, you'll get a hernia."

"_What_?"

"My mom always used to tell me...if I worried, I'd get a hernia. Or an ulcer." Greg shrugged, knowing it was one or the other. Allie smiled.

"Thank you, Greg. I feel like an ass." Allie sighed, nuzzling her head into Greg's neck. He smiled to himself.

"You shouldn't."

"If you cried, you'd feel like an ass, too."

"Not true. I cry. Sometimes." Greg couldn't actually remember the last time he'd cried. Maybe...a year ago?

"You never cry." Allie looked up, leaving Greg slightly disappointed. Instinctively, Greg placed his hands on Allie's face and kissed her, softly. She smiled and rolled over on top of him, kissing along his jaw-line. Such a pleasant feeling, he decided. He placed his hands on the small of her back and travelled upwards, letting her slip slide further up, revealing more flesh than was necessary. She pulled her hands up from his sides up to his hair, tousling it gently. Allie winced when Greg started tracing circles at the top of her back. They continued on with this messing about for another half an hour or so, before the door went. Allie rolled her eyes, completely out of breath, and shot up out of the bed. She pulled on a pair of jeans and tutted. This was far too late for anybody to visit them. Then she checked her watch. It was far earlier than she had originally thought. "I'll be right back..._don't_ move!" She grinned at Greg, who was sprawled out in the middle of the bed, wide-awake now. The person at the door was now knocking frantically. Allie had a quick look through the peep-hole in the door. Was that...Carl? She flattened her hair and opened the door. "Hi!" She greeted him brightly. Allie had long since discovered that Carl wasn't actually wearing a wig, but it was his real hair. It was just long at the time. It was cropped now, more like Nick's hair. She placed a hand on her very warm - very flushed - cheek. "How are you, Carl?"

Carl grinned. He was attractive enough. Not Greg-attractive, obviously, but fair enough. Shorter than Allie, and possible even Bonnie, he had toned up in recent months. His pot-belly had left him and his teeth had been straightened. He _definitely_ knew a plastic surgeon or five. "Hello, Allie. I'm good, thanks. Uh, could I come on in for a minute or ten?"

Allie glanced at the bedroom door, then down at herself. Her slip had, well, slipped so she pulled it up quickly and nodded. "Yeah, of course. I was just...uh, watching TV." She shifted over, letting Carl enter the room. This had better be quick...and important. "Something wrong, Carl?"

He shook his head. "No, no. Just checking in on you. Your mother said you were looking a bit white. Not very tanned or something." He shook his head. Allie nodded.

"Oh, yeah. I wasn't feeling too well. Had a bit of a bad day. All good now, though. Anything else?" Allie sat herself down on the arm of the chair, calming herself down slightly. Carl frowned.

"Actually, yes. Your mother told me to give you this." He handed Allie a small sheet of paper. Allie furrowed her brows and opened it up. Instantly, her mouth shot open. "She says she hopes it'll cover the dresses."

"Gah, I...wow. Oh, my gosh. Carl!" She shrieked. "I absolutely can't take this! It is _way_ too much!" The sheet of paper in question was actually a cheque for $2, 500. All the dresses and maybe even the shoes, Allie thought. She couldn't take it, mostly because she knew it was Carl's money.

"No, no. It really isn't. Especially if you're buying the dresses from the shop your Mom was chatting about." Carl picked up a magazine and started reading, or skimming.

Allie was still flabbergasted. "Oh, thank you Carl!" She ran over to him and threw her arms right around his neck. He laughed.

"Not a problem. It's actually your Mom's money, anyway."

Allie bit her lip. She didn't really believe him, but what could she do. "Still, thank you so much. Hey, do you guys have a place to stay tonight?"

Carl nodded. "We're staying with Frank and Dylan. Nice place they've got going over there. Clean. I was surprised."

"Yeah, so was I. How's the dog?"

"Good...very well trained. He responds better to Frank than anyone else." Carl stood up and walked to the door. "Anyway, I'd better be off before your Mom's phoning me. Enjoy the cheque." He winked and opened the door. Allie grinned.

"Thank you. Tell Mom I'll be over tomorrow sometime, okay?"

Carl bobbed his head. "We're having steak."

"Excellent. Goodnight, Carl."

"Night."

Allie shut the door behind him and locked it. She was thrilled about the money. It was definitely a big help for her. She ran into the bedroom and flung herself around Greg, who was standing at the end of the bed. "Greg, you'll never guess what?!"

"What?" He widened his eyes, taken a back by Allie. She pulled away, letting him get a good look at her in the little pink slip. God, what a sight. It started lower than most of her clothes - although, she never wore round-neck items - and it finished at the top of her knees, clinging to her attractively. She was plenty skinny, and her stomach was nice and flat. She was always pleased with her shoulders, trying to show them off and whatnot. Her hair had gotten longer, now ending at her collar bone. Her fringe ended just at the end of her eyebrows, and her eyes were amazing. Greg often wondered how they disappeared whenever she smiled. He was brought crashing back to reality when she jumped on him again, obviously ecstatic about something. He hadn't really paid much attention to what she'd been saying. Something about Carl...money, maybe?

"How cool is that?! That is mine, Michelle's, Catherine _and_ Sara's dresses! Of course, I'll probably get the shoes and all, but still!"

Greg smiled, pulling her back onto the bed and not really caring what she was talking about. He knew this was the first of many, _many_, nights like this ahead.

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**A/N: Hola!**

**Okay, I think I'm back on track with this fic...I have it all in my head, but it's the wording that's getting me. Uh, sorry again for the really long wait. Hope you lot all enjoyed it! I personally think it's too short, but meh.**

**Michelle, you will definitely be in the next couple of chapters, so, woo! LOL. Oh, I love writing fluff. Fluff is amazing. Cliched fluff, even. Wow. **

**Please, please, please leave me a wee review! They really make my day!**

**Have a great rest of the day,**

**JauntyChick**

**XOX**


	13. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

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**(Allie POV again. Enjoy it!)**

I was absolutely ecstatic about the money. How nice was that!? Especially for my mom. I mean, that is _everybody's_ dresses. My night was definitely an improvement on my day. Greg and me had managed to have a little chat...well, I sort of rambled at him and he listened. He calmed me right down afterwards, though, kissing me very passionately, indeed. Then we watched a film, then I fell asleep. I woke up the next morning feeling uber-positive about everything. I had a shower, got dressed and make some breakfast. Greg was off that day, so he was spending it with Papa Olaf. I was off too, so I told Michelle that we'd be going out to have a look at dresses and stuff, so she was exceedingly excited. Honestly, I have never once seen that girl mad or upset. Amazing. I got into my rental car - I know, I've been reduced to a rental car, tsk - and turned the radio on. I was pleasantly greeted with The Killers, then Panic! At the Disco. Great, huh? I drove to the Mead residence and rang the doorbell. Jimmy and my Dad were off somewhere learning to scuba dive. Imagine: my father scuba diving. Not a pretty image, is it?! A few seconds later, Michelle bounded to the door. If I ever had any children, they would be _just_ like her. Always perky and upbeat, and hopefully kind of short, too.

"Hi, Allie." She smiled. I grinned.

"Hello, Michelle...you ready?"

"Yep...let me get my jacket!" With that, she bounced back into the hall and got her coat and bag. She was like a giant ball of energy, flouncing about the place. "Okay, I suggest we try _Valerie Kigton_ first. It's _really_ nice, and very good prices, too."

I nodded, watching as Michelle jammed the door shut and locked it, all whilst talking very speedily. "Alright. Anywhere but _Watkins_ and _Taylor_."

Michelle widened her eyes, comically. "Jeez, we don't have _that_ big a budget."

I smiled, biting my lip. "Actually, we sort of do...my Mom gave me two-thousand bucks. Imagine!"

"Oh, my gosh. Great...who's in charge of the bridesmaids dresses?"

"That would be..." I frowned. Who would it be? I supposed they would all have to decide. "You, probably, but Catherine and Sara will need a heads-up, first."

"Sweet." So, we got into the car, turned the radio back on - My Chemical Romance, 'Famous Last Words'...good song - and started chatting. She was busy telling me about her new boyfriend. His name's John, he's tall, darkly brooding and handsome. College jock, apparently. Very sweet. Although, she doesn't know his last name.

"How can you not know his last name, Shell?" I giggled.

"I don't know!" She groaned. Infatuation tends to do that to a person. "Anyway, there's Valerie Kigton's." She pointed to a massive boutique, declaring it's 'thousands of half-price dresses at a magnificent quality!'. I got out - so did Michelle - and locked the doors. The front door was very ominous, and I had a sort of twist on the inside. Like a flutter, but not pleasant. Michelle went in first, like a pro. It felt like she'd been doing this for years, to me anyway. She immediately started scanning the rails for dresses. There was a_ lot_ of them, too. Some huge, some plain, and all at affordable prices. The red one in the middle of the room seemed to be popular. I knew I would look ghastly in it. Yeah, _ghastly_. I would be totally drained looking. Michelle nudged me, pointing to a huge, ball-gown-esque dress for five-hundred. It was lovely, but maybe a bit over-the-top.

"How about this one?" I showed her a plain, A-line dress. She wrinkled her nose.

"We'll need a bit more detail." She waved her hand at me. She was right, maybe some sequins or something. I saw a tall, stern/scary looking woman heading towards me. Her suit was tight and her hair was long and loose.

"Now, how can I help you both?"

I was about to speak when Michelle rushed to my side, clinging onto my arm. "This is Allie, she's getting married on the 22nd of December."

"Oh, a winter wedding." The woman, Debra, smiled at me. "Very nice. And what were you thinking for the dress?" Debra and Michelle both looked at me. For once, I had no clue what to say.

"Uh, maybe...a shiny one?" Oh, great. Now I felt like an idiot. Who asks for a shiny dress? I tutted, laughed nervously and shook my head. "Actually, I meant, uh, something with sequins...preferably not white..."

Debra snapped her fingers and pulled me and Debra over to the back section of the factory. She pulled out a flouncy dress with a giant brooch on it. I really had to restrain myself from not gasping at the sight of it. How did someone even _think_ about a dress like this? "This is our best seller at the minute..." Debra smiled. I nodded. That is a lot of women going around looking like a cake. I shook my head.

"Uh, I don't really think it's me..." Great, now I sound like a Bridezilla. "Oh, have you got anything in, say, pink?"

Debra gasped. "Oh, no, no, no, no. You'll have to go to Cranes and Alexander. We don't _do_ pink." She glared at me and Michelle, frostily.

"Uh, okay." I managed to squeak out. Me and Michelle quickly backed out of the door and over the road to the next retailers. No luck there. So, we walked for another little while and we found a bridesmaid dress specialist. Michelle quickly went over to the baby-blue colours. I had a weird thought about how me and Greg really hadn't discussed _anything_ other than the date of the wedding. I took a seat in the bridesmaid place and had a quick glance through the wedding dress guide. I knew then what I really, really loved! It was an A-line silhouette, pink and amazingly pretty. I knew I'd better not get my hopes up, but wow! Michelle called me over to show me a really pretty, plain, full-length dress with a tiny bow on a ribbon under the bust. It was a sort of purple colour with a lilac trim. No sleeves, which I liked. "Michelle, I think it's lovely. Really, really nice. Uh, could you hold that thought, though? I'll have to phone Catherine." Michelle nodded and I quickly got my cell phone out. Catherine, thankfully, was off so she told me to take a picture and send it to her and Sara. Catherine replied and said she loved it and Sara had asked why we weren't going for red. I bit my lip. "Michelle, is there anything red?"

"Oh, we can get these dresses in red..." The little clerk-guy told me, hurriedly. I nodded.

"Thanks." So, I got my phone out and texted Sara back. I then had a text from Catherine who asked me if there was something in blue. I suddenly had a brain-wave. "Sir?" I walked up to the clerk and smiled. "Do these dresses come in any other colours?"

The clerk, Robert, grinned and nodded. "We sure do...uh, red, purple, white, black, blue and green. All of these dresses have a lighter or a darker trim. Also, if you want, we could do a beaded arrangement on the bodice."

I grinned. I was really, really happy about all of this. I didn't even mind the fact that _I_ didn't have a dress. "Great, could I take one in red, one in blue and...Shell?"

Michelle rushed over to me, eyebrows raised inquisitively. "Yes, Allie?"

"What colour do you want?" I motioned to the dress. I saw her eyes light up completely.

"Oh, my gosh! Do you have it in red?"

The clerk nodded and I grinned. I wondered if Catherine would maybe go for red...so I texted her and she sent me back a smiley face, nodding. "Right, we'll take three. Size ten, size eight and size twelve, please." I pulled out the cheque-book. In total, it came to just under a thousand, which surprised me because everyone got free shoes out of the deal. I was completely and utterly shocked by how great the prices were. Amazing. We looked about for another little while before heading into the DVD shop. I couldn't help myself! 'Die Hard 4' was half price, so I got it for Greg. Michelle bought herself some new film with Jonathan Rhys Myers.

"Thank you _so_ much, Al. I had a fantastic day." She yawned, opening the car door. I smirked.

"So did I...hey, why don't you come over later for dinner? Maybe, eight?" I had been planning carbonara or something. Maybe spaghetti bolognese. Pasta, really. Michelle nodded.

"Yeah, that would be great. See you." She closed the door and ran up to her own front door, quickly unlocking it. I drove myself back home. Greg was probably still put with Olaf, so I didn't bother to call him. I didn't except to find Nick sitting on the couch, watching the TV, either, but there we go. I put the dresses on the table and stretched.

"Hey, Nicky...what's up?"

"Oh, not much. I found a place." He said, looking up from the remote. I knew he didn't know how to work it. Even _I_ didn't know how to work it. Far too many buttons and things.

"Oh, well, that's good. How did you like staying at Warrick's?" I asked, taking my jacket off and plonking myself down next to him. He scoffed.

"Yeah, that ain't happening again, let me just tell you." He shook his head, confused-looking.

"Oh, okay." Better leave it there, Moore. God knows what happened.

"I mean, how was I supposed to know _her_ sister was in _my_ bed. Shouldn't _Warrick_ have known? Well, you'd think, but apparently not, no." He folded his arms, scowling. I stifled a laugh.

"Aha...okay. I won't ever ask you again." I turned the TV down a bit. "On the bright-side, I got some dresses."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Red ones." I grinned.

Nick arched an eyebrow. "Red? What colour's your dress?"

"I haven't got one. I'm just worried in case I turn into a Bridezilla or something." I muttered to myself. Nick smiled.

"Well, I don't think you will if you _still_ haven't got a dress." Nick flicked over to the Wine channel then, disgusted with himself, promptly flicked it back.

"Mm...oh, my cousin's coming over tonight. Michelle. You'll like her."

"I've met her before...uh, short. Black-ish hair?"

"The very one." I yawned. I was very tired all of a sudden. Jeez, maybe I had hypothermia. Was it even possible to get hypothermia in the desert? "So, where's the new place?"

"Just outside the strip. The people are friendly and it's clean. Crime rate's good." Nick never once looked over at me. Instead, he was engrossed in the cooking channel. I rolled my eyes and picked up my cell phone. I had one missed call from Greg. I hit the re-dial button and smiled. Two rings and he answered.

"Hey, Greg..you called?" I greeted him cheerily.

"**Allie!" **Cue a light flutter from my stomach. **"Yeah, I met Ashley." **He sounded down-trodden. No wonder. **"She, uh, invited herself over for dinner."**

I bit my lip. "Oh, right." I was disappointed. I knew we wouldn't have been alone anyway, what with Nick and Michelle, but I really, really wanted to spend Ashley-Free rime with Greg. Honestly, if I didn't know better, I'd say she was a complete, weird stalker. I've said it before, and I'm sure I'll say it again. Anyway, I sighed and cleared my throat. "Well, Michelle's coming and Nick's gonna be here, so...it's fine. I'll handle it. How's Papa Olaf?"

"**He's good. We're watching 'Dodgeball', then I'll be home, okay?"** Papa Olaf...watching Dodgeball. Now I've heard everything.

"Not a problem. See you..." I bit my lip, waiting for Greg to continue. Hopefully, the pause on my side of the phone made him take the hint.

"**Oh, I love you." **He said, amusedly.

"Love you, too. Bye!" I hung up, laughing. Poor Greg. I sighed and looked at Nick. Creme Caramel seemed to be something he was interested in. "Guess who's coming to dinner, Nick."

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Eight rolled around much faster than I wanted. The dinner - penne pasta in a delightful roasted vegetable sauce, obviously tomato-based - was nearly ready but I wasn't. I put Nick in charge for a few moments before I went to the bedroom to get changed. No doubt Ashley would be in the lowest cut thing she could find. So, I pulled out a red, sparkly number. Strapless, and not too low. It had sequins at the bottom of it, and it finished at the top of the knee, like most of my things. I curled the bottom of my hair and put on a tiny, tiny bit of eye-liner. Greg rolled into the bedroom a few moments into my hair-curling.

"Hello!" He smiled, plopping himself onto the bed. I grinned.

"Hey, handsome." I turned round and bit my lip. Greg was busy taking his shoes off, and sighing slightly. "What's up?"

"Nothing. I was just hoping..." He stopped, glaring at the floor. My hair was finished, so I switched the machine off at the wall and put them on my dresser, heading over to Greg. I sat down and put my hand on his back, rubbing gently.

"What were you hopin'?"

He looked up, smiling pitifully. Then he shrugged elaborately. His hair was spiked majorly today, resembling a porcupine slightly. A cute one, though. "I just kinda...hoped I wouldn't have to see Ashley today. You know, day off and everythin'."

"Oh. Don't worry about it." I kissed him on the cheek and stood up, only to be pulled back down and get kissed properly. "Thanks. I really needed that." I added, sarcastically. Greg laughed and proceeded to lie back down on the bed. I went back to my business at the mirror.

"Olaf was asking about you."

"Oh, yeah...what was he asking?"

"Wanted to know if you had a dress yet."

"Ha. Not likely. I got the bridesmaids dresses today, though."

"I saw." Greg enthused, walking over to me and my mirror. "Good choice."

"Michelle." I smiled. "She picked 'em, thankfully. You know," I stalled, turning round to Greg. "We really should be sharing these tasks. Like, I take the dresses, the flowers and all the girly stuff, you take the cars, suits, all that jazz. Maybe even the rings. Then, we both take the venue, cake and all."

Greg nodded. "Fine by me. But don't expect a big help."

"I didn't." This was met with a glare, and a laugh. "Relax, I was kidding. Oh, I got a new CD for you, too."

His eyes lit up. "What is it?"

"Under the pillow."

Greg immediately dove under the pillow and pulled out the DVD and then the CD. "Oh, yes!" He grinned. "'Die Hard' and Rancid Molecules! Thanks, Al..." He pulled the notelet out of the CD and started reading. I think he really only likes them for their name. Metal and science...what could be better for him? Maybe if they were naked women singing in a metal-style and playing around with a microscope. Eugh. Bad thought, very, very bad thought.

"And Moulin Rouge is on tonight." I love that movie, I really do! The acting, the plot, the soundtrack - it's _all_ good. Even the cast. Greg only nodded, still engrossed. "By the way, that is _not_ o be played at the dinner table."

Greg smiled, lopsidedly...suddenly, I felt myself wanting him to play it at the table. How does he do that?! "Fine. No Bryan Adams." He came over to me, looking more playful than anything else.

"I wasn't gonna play Bryan Adams."

"Good."

"No, _excellent_." Unfortunately, as I was about to get kissed again, I heard the doorbell. Either it was really good news or really bad news. Most likely, it would be the latter. Greg looked at the ground and then went over to the wardrobe, getting changed. Personally, I liked the green tee, and I loved the light jeans and the dark-spiky hair. He didn't have to change, especially not for Ashley. I gritted my teeth as I went to open the door. The apartment was looking very well indeed. Very clean.. Nick had hurriedly told me that the dinner was fine, and he was still stirring every few minutes. Michelle was on the other side of the door, all dressed up and glitzy. I grinned, pulling her into a hug. "Michelle!"

"Hi!" She exclaimed, handing me a huge box of chocolates. "I brought these, cause...well, you guys always bring me something." She shrugged and walked into the sitting room.

"Thanks, make yourself at home. Nick did." I winked at him, and he glared.

"Hey, Michelle." Nick greeted, smiling now. She sat down, waving. Her dress was lovely! Blue, and knee-high. Very cute. So, she and Nick started chatting away and I finished up with the dinner. Greg joined them a few moments later, changed into dark jeans and a purple shirt, with an open collar. My brain nearly halted it's functions when I saw him. I quickly got back to work and then the doorbell went again. I rushed out into the hall, primping my very-nice-self in the mirror. I opened the door to find Ashley in the world's smallest dress. It was khaki-green, and just barely-there. Seriously, it must only have just started at the top of her very-large and very scary bosom and finished just underneath her also very-large rear. Somehow, I felt morally outraged, having a mini-rant in my head. I mean, Nick and Greg were in the other room.

"Well, hi." She greeted, hands on hips. I managed to get a look of her face. Whoa. Dark-green eyeshadow and fire-engine red lips. Gah!

"Hi."

"Can I come in?" She switched her pose.

"Sure." Jeez, Allie...pull your charms out of the bag and let the, uh, let _Ashley _in! "Come on in." I wondered if she was cold...she certainly looked cold, anyway. She flashed me a large smile and swanned into the living room. Vibrant red shoes, too, I noted. I was only a few steps behind her, so I got a great look of everyone's faces. Nick's jaw fell open, and so did Michelle, but Greg's was an absolute picture. His eyes were huge and he looked really, really disgusted. I stifled a laugh.

"Well, hello, everyone." Ashley smirked.

"Uh, Nick and Greg...you two know her already, but Michelle, _this_ is Ashley Kelly. She's the new tech at the lab and Ashley, this is my cousin, Michelle."

"Ah, uh, nice to-to meet you." Michelle stuttered out. Ashley gave a smile that just _oozed_ confidence.

"Charmed, I'm sure." She sat down _right_ next to Greg. There was, what, an inch between them. "Allie, honey, have you got any red wine? I'm _dying_ of thirst." Her voice was so squeaky, but quite loud. She turned to Greg. "How are you?"

"I'm good." He quickly averted his eyes down to the carpet. I laughed to myself and headed into the kitchen, pouring her some red wine. Suddenly, I heard Ashley's shrill laugh coming in from the sitting room into my kitchen. Oh, no.

"Oh, Allie. Very kind of you to let me come for dinner." She announced, looking all-too smug about the situation. "Tell me, can I lend a hand?" I had a quick look at her hands; two-inch fake, blood-red nails.

"No, thanks. I'm alright by myself." She nodded, taking the glass of red wine that I was holding out for her and walked back into the living room. Not long after, Nick and Greg rushed in. Nick frowned and Greg rubbed his eyes. "Yes, boys?" I smiled, taking the giant pot of sauce off the stove and setting it onto the counter. My pasta was cooked to absolute _perfection_.

"No, we're not." Greg folded his arms, nodding at Nick.

He cleared his throat. "Yeah, Al. Why don't you offer her a jacket or something? Another dress, maybe..."

I shook my head. "I doubt that I'd have anything to fit her, Nicky. Besides...I thought you two would've enjoyed it."

Greg glared. "Well we're not enjoying it." He nudged Nick.

"Uh, yeah. I mean, no...we're _not_."

I rolled my eyes. "Go on in and talk to her...you'll be fine, I promise you."

Nick nodded and went back in, quick-smart. I got the feeling he wasn't all that bothered by her outfit, or lack-thereof. Greg stayed behind. "You know I'm not looking at her, right?" He flashed me a cheeky-grin and leant over the counter. I smiled.

"I had hoped. You _are_ a dude, though, so..." I put two ladle-fulls of pasta on each plate, and then two and a half of the sauce. Wow. That is a _lot_ of sauce. "Uh, are the drinks in, Greggo?"

He nodded, coming over to me and lifting up a plate. "I'll be back." He winked. I tutted. Poor Greg, he must've been trying to compensate. I looked down at my dress, feeling a bit over-dressed. I laughed again, to myself, taking two plates and serving them up.

Oh, yes, this was going to be very, _very _fun.

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**A/N: Hello!**

**Ah, I really, really enjoyed writing this chapter. So fun! Oh, man, I detest Ashley! I can't believe it!!! And I invented her. Tsk. **

**Oh, have any of you seen Snow Wonder? I actually really enjoyed it. Eric Szmanda was very good. Strange, though, seeing him as **_**not**_** Greg Sanders. Weird. I'm absolutely **_**DESPERATE **_**to see True Vinyl. It looks amazing. I've seen twenty minutes of it on YouTube, but they took it back down on account of copyright. Imagine my surprise. is a brilliant resource for saving youtube videos. Sorry for the ramble!**

**Thanks to all my reviewers...you guys are the bomb. By the way, I'm trying to get at least sixty reviews for this one, so...tell all your friends :)**

**Please R&R!**

**Happy New Year,**

**JauntyChick**

**XOX**


	14. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

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Dinner was a lot harder than I expected. Sure, I expected feelings of annoyance, aggravation - even the feeling of wanting to slap Ashley. I hadn't expected jealousy. I mean, I _think_ it was jealousy. It was absolutely unpleasant, anyway. One second, we were discussing, I don't know, _cake_, then the next thing, she's practically sitting on Greg's knee. Well, one leg was draped over his knee. Still, I truly, truly wanted to slap her away from him right there and then. I was across from Greg, _she_ was next to him. Nick was at the head of the table and Michelle stuck next to me.

"Oh, Allie...you really did surpass yourself on dinner." Ashley smirked. I smiled, only to be polite.

"Thanks." You really did surpass yourself on forgetting to wear a dress, Ashley. "Glad you enjoyed it."

"Mm, Nick?" She cooed. Nick bolted upright and adopted a dazed sort of look on his face.

"Yeah?"

"I think I'd like to head home...any chance you could drive me?" God, what a brazen hussy. She hangs on Greg all evening, and now she's telling - _no, _**ordering** - Nick to drive her home. Jeez!

"Uh, actually...I'm kinda living here. I'll call you a taxi, though." Nick cleared his throat and stood up. Boy, howdy, I was so proud of him! I knew he had more sense than to be around Ashley. Anyway, we all chatted comfortably enough for a while until her taxi arrived. I got up and walked her to the door. Unfortunately, Greg did, too. Ashley was busy pulling on _my_ jacket - a nice one, too. Doesn't fit her, and it's too red for her orange-like tan, but there we go. I just know I won't ever see it again - and telling us how she had such an amazing time. Greg put his arm around my waist and smiled at her.

"See you tomorrow, Ashley." He's trying to get rid of her. How adorable! The next thing, Ashley hugs me and tells me I looked great and then she pulls Greg into the world's longest hug. Honestly, what right has she got?! He never hesitated in pulling away, I noted. She winked at me and then left. I folded my arms, but I got a kiss from Greg. I blinked and started walking back into the kitchen, but Greg's hand on my arm made me halt, abruptly. I had to admit, I was stung. And Ashley was the wasp. "Hey, are you okay, Al?"

I smiled, feebly, now only just seeing the worry on Greg's face. "Yeah, I...I'm good." Wanting to make sure he had no doubts on the subject, I kissed him again, then headed back into the sitting room. I just wished that I didn't feel so uneasy about everything.

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The next day, it was all good. Hodges was back from his couple of days off and so we were slated to work together, which was actually good. Hodges and me got along great, and he and Ashley never got along at all, which I appreciated. Grissom, God knows why, told Greg to help Ashley out. He was apprehensive, and probably not wanting to upset me, but he had to go along with it, just because Grissom said so. I handed Hodges a swab that I needed checked, while I worked on some blood.

"So, I heard you had company last night? I bet that was fun." Hodges smirked. I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, like a hole in the head."

He snorted. "Why on earth did you invite her? I mean, maybe if she was five stone heavier, less tanned, less blonde and didn't have her claws in Sanders-" No she doesn't! She really, really doesn't! If she did, I'd know, right? Of course I would. So why did I feel as angry as I did? I sighed. And still Hodges pushed farther. "And of course, she's younger, blonde..." He continued on naming off a whole host of things in Ashley's favour, that obviously weren't in my own. Suddenly, he just stumbled over one thing, one stupid, _tiny_ little thing that she had that I didn't; a newfound friendship with Greg. I mean, me and Greg may be engaged, but we've known each other for three or four years. I'm old hat. I'm old, fat hat if you listen to Hodges, which I was trying desperately not to do. I felt like my face was on fire and my heart was pretty much in my stomach, but there was this stupid, evil little gnawing thought at the back of my head that I wasn't good enough. That maybe Greg would want something better. I felt a lump in my throat, so I got up, left Hodges with all of my DNA results and headed into Grissom's office. I opened the door - after knocking, obviously - and plopped down on the sofa. I sighed, wanting to clear my head. I felt a small, wet thing trickling down one side of my face and quickly came to the conclusion that it was a tear, something that was happening a lot.

"Alison?" Grissom made me jump a little, and I bolted upright.

"Yes, Grissom?"

"I couldn't help but notice that you came in and stole my couch. Something wrong?"

"No." My voice was too high and I was smiling very unconvincingly. "Yes! I can't work with Ashley, I absolutely can't, Grissom! I'm trying not to let her affect my work, but she is! I..." Had started to hyperventilate. Grissom came over to me, sat me up properly and rubbed my back.

"Allie, calm down and breathe."

I was breathing, I just wasn't doing it calmly. Or properly. Then I noticed I wasn't crying and my face wasn't even wet. Suddenly, I stopped. "Okay."

"Now, start at the beginning and tell me what's wrong."

I inhaled. "Alright." So I told him about Hodges and I told him about everything I was worried about.

"Well." He sighed, staring off into one of his bug-jars. "Quite a predicament you're in, isn't it, Allie?"

I nodded. "I guess so."

"Tell you what." He smiled feebly at me. "I'll have a talk with Greg, see how he feels-"

"No!" I flailed my arms up and down. "No, no, no! You can't, cause if you do, then he'll know I'm jealous and then it'll be constant worry for both of us and I-I can't go through with that, Grissom!" I rambled on incoherently for another while, just glad to get everything out in the open.

"Allie, secrets can only be held in for a certain amount of time. Then you have to let go of them..."

I sighed. Hesitantly, I nodded. "Thanks, Grissom. You're a great friend."

"Anytime." With that, he put his glasses - which had been residing in his pocket - back on and flounced over to his desk. I opened the door and went back to the lab, finished my DNA projects and then I went home, promising myself that I wouldn't let _anything_ bother me. And that I would be happier later.

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That night, I had a bath, got changed into one of Greg's old, grey sweaters and a tight pair of light jeans, then I headed into the kitchen. Greg was late. Again. Mom visited me, telling me not to trust Greg, that he was probably cheating and probably cross-dressing. I trust Greg and I'm sure he'd never do that to me. Well, I hoped, anyway. I lay down on the sofa and turned it over to the news. Nothing out of the ordinary there, so I flicked it to the movie channel only to find a film about cheaters. Ten minutes in, the door opened and Greg flounced in. He grinned at me, small box of chocolates in hand. I wanted to slap him but...he was too cute to slap. I budged up on the sofa, letting him sit down.

"Did you get dinner, Greggo?" I asked, playing with a strand of his hair.

He sighed. "Yeah. Ashley decided we would go to Pizza Hut."

I nodded, overlooking the fact he had mentioned 'Her'. "Cool. Mom brought me some chicken and potatoes. She made a damn nice job of them, too."

"I didn't know your Mom cooked."

"Yep." And then we were quiet for a minute or two. I had an overwhelming urge to cry, so I cleared my throat and tousled my hair up a bit. "Greg...honey, can we talk? Again?"

He looked at me quickly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Then he snapped back and nodded. "Yeah, of course. What's up?" He put his legs underneath him and turned round to me, pretty much the same way I was. I bit my lip.

"Well...are you happy? I-I mean...with me? Or am I old hat or...?"

God, I'd hoped that he said the right thing.

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**(Third Person)**

Greg couldn't believe his ears. How could Allie even think that he was bored with her? It seemed so impossible, yet it was as if she had thought on everything. He would never got bored of her. There was never a dull moment. Even when there was silence, it was companionable and not awkward. He scoffed.

"Allie, no way! I'm very happy with you. This is the happiest I've ever been. I love you." He took her hand in his, hoping for a smile or just a positive sign. Nothing. Her deep-dark eyes were still filled with the same worry and apprehension that had lingered there only moments before. She pulled her hands away. "A-Allie?"

Allie blinked her way out of more tears. "Greg..." Her voice was so quiet, so...obviously concerned. "Greg, are you, uh," How to put it? "Are you having an affair?"

Greg stared at Allie. She was so absolutely, scarily serious. He blinked, feeling his arms and back covered in goosebumps. "No, I...I would never do that to you." His stomach dropped entirely, seeing that her expression never changed once. "Baby, I am _not_ having an affair. I never would and I never will."

So why did she still have an unconvinced look about her? She did believe him, but her mother's words still hindered her. "Okay."

Greg's heart was beating too fast for him to handle. He was still getting over the shock of Allie's question. "No...not okay. There's something else, isn't there?"

Allie nodded, slowly. "I...Hodges was just saying that Ashley is younger, blonder and skinnier." Her breath caught slightly, and she didn't want to continue but Greg's eyes were still on her, almost forcing the words out of her mouth. "Uh," She swallowed. "Then Mom came over and...well, she told me not to trust you a-and that you were probably cheating." Greg let his mouth fall open slightly, wondering if this was what it felt like to have your heart broken, shot and stood upon several times. He'd thought it was bad when Allie threatened to leave a few years ago, but this...this was a whole different ball game. "I mean, I know you're a gentleman and you wouldn't hurt a woman but...I have to know." She searched his eyes, hoping for some sort of reassurance. Greg took her hand again, squeezing it tighter and sighed.

"Allie..." His voice cracked, audibly, turning his voice into a mere whisper. "I can't believe that...you would think..." He sighed, staring at the floor. "I couldn't do that to you, Allie."

Allie smiled, a weak smile, but a smile nonetheless. "I know, but...I just, I had to ask, you know?" Greg nodded, although he didn't understand. Had he done something? Was it because he had missed several lunch dates because of Ashley? God knows. So the two of them sat there, almost unwilling to even glance at each other. Allie didn't know what to say and Greg, well, he hadn't the beginnings of an idea what to say.

This was a situation of the worst kind: a paranoid fiancé and a man that wasn't any good with words.

But what else was there to say?

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**A/N: Hola!**

**Okay, bit of an emo chapter, I'll admit. But it's setting the scene for a major volcanic eruption! **

**Hope you all enjoyed, special thanks to all my reviewers - you are such amazingly wonderful dudes! Or chicks. **

**Please leave me a wee review if you'd like...because they make my day!**

**Have a great day,**

**JauntyChick**

**XOX**


	15. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

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**(Allie POV again. Sort of...angst-ridden. Enjoy it!)**

In the next couple of weeks that followed, me and Greg had managed to book a few things for the wedding. We had also pretty much smoothed everything out, even though Ashley was beginning to cling onto Greg more and more. The worst thing was..._everyone_ noticed. Catherine, Sara, Nick, Warrick, Grissom and even Brass, who I didn't hang out with much. They all knew. It was like silent humiliation. I couldn't tell anyone, because then they'd know that I was jealous. I mean, I wasn't _majorly_ jealous, but I wasn't overtly happy when she was around us. Over the weeks, Ashley had broken one of the lab computers, poisoned Hodges' coffee with eye-drops - a felony! - and then the worst thing ever. The straw that broke the camel's back, shall we say. Yet no one said or did anything. It was Tuesday: the worst Tuesday I've ever experienced. Me and Greg had a morning off, so I got two extra hours of sleep, which was the bomb. We went shopping - the DVD place - and then we had lunch. Greg was in a great mood. I was, too. I was really...amazingly..._happy_. Then I got back to work, which was fine, as usual. For the first three hours, anyway. Made some matches, ran some blood, the usual. I had forgiven Hodges for being such an ass. He couldn't help it, after all. I was on my way to the lab, after Catherine had given me some more blood to test. She was hoping for cocaine. The suspect wasn't, obviously. I walked into the lab, knowing full well that Ashley was there. I saw Greg, too. He was frowning, though. She was grinning, foolishly. God, even her smile annoys me. It actually made me feel like a terrible, awful person, hating someone else so vehemently. I stopped outside the lab as I saw the two of them walking out of it. I ducked behind a wall as they headed into the break room. I don't know why I did that. Maybe things would have been better if I'd just let them go. I guess I must've suspected something. Maybe it was the way she was clutching onto his arm, possesively. So, I quickly shoved Catherine's blood sample onto my desk and then rushed over to the break room door. Thankfully, one wall was not made of glass, so it was perfect to spy behind. I could hear Ashley's uber-loud giggling and I really couldn't help but roll my eyes. She's so sickening. I poked my head around the door, noticing how Greg was staring at his hand. He only did that when he was moping. Or sulking. Or even trying to avoid the situation. He moved his head, and then I knew it was the latter option. Whatever Ashley was telling him, he wasn't wanting to hear any of it. I waited around, hearing Greg speaking very deeply. Almost...annoyed. Ashley asked him 'why' and then he replied quietly. Ashley tutted and so I decided it was time to poke my head around again, after I got caught by Archie. I took two steps in and the sight that was before me almost killed me. I may have been jealous, or I may have been supremely mad, but I definitely wasn't doing any fluttering. Especially in the stomach area. My heart was pounding and I was really hot. But shivery, too. Tears welled up in my eyes as I backed out of the room. What I saw was this: Greg frowning and shaking his head, but then Ashley put her hands on his face and attached her smug little lips to his own. I couldn't believe it, honestly. I felt dizzy and sick, and my stomach just dropped completely. Greg rushed into the lab, with the skank trailing behind him.

"Allie! That was not the way it looked!" Greg held his hands up, defensive. Ashley was stood in the corner, looking as if butter wouldn't melt. I scoffed.

"Oh, yeah! You two _weren't _playing tonsil hockey." I snapped, sarcastically. Greg was out of breath, looking angry, but I never gave him the benefit of the doubt. I turned ound to both of them, glaring. "Get out."

"Allie, honey, please...I never kissed her, I swear!"

"Get out." I was firm, but the tears streaming down my face were telling a sincerely different story. I was annoyed, because of Ashley, and I was miserable, because I'd probably just lost my best friend in the whole world. "Just go away and leave me be."

Ashley piped up, then. "Oh, Allie...we're sorry-"

"'We'? '_We_' are sorry? No, Ashley! There is no 'we' here." Greg folded his arms. The two of them continued on arguing for a while, with her 'I thought you liked me' and his 'I was only doing it so as Allie didn't have to suffer _you_'. And then I couldn't take it any more. I thought I was gonna have a heart attack.

"Right! Both of you! Shut up and just stop it!" I was yelling and flailing my arms about the place, but I didn't mean to yell. "I don't care what either of you have to say, I don't wanna hear it. Ashley, if you want him, please, by all means, take him!" I shook my head at her. "And you!" I pointed to Greg himself. "You, I thought, were nice. You thought I was, what was it, perfection?" Somehow, the only thought I had when I saw the two of them kissing was the day that we got formally engaged. Greg, ashamed look on his face, nodded.

"I do-"

"Shut up!" I shrieked. "I don't want to see you, I don't want to speak to you and I do _not_ want to even look at you! Y-you make me so mad!" I pulled his jacket off the back of one of the chairs and flung it at him. He looked out into the corridor, then down at his feet.

"Allie, please-"

"Get out!" I continued yelling. Something which I now regret. Ashley came over and touched me on the arm. It took me all my time not to punch her.

"Honey, don't worry. Greg's in good hands." She flashed me a false smile. So, so smug and so...ugh! Greg scoffed.

"Allie, baby, I didn't kiss her!"

I put my hand to my head and felt how warm I was. My blood pressure was probably through the roof. "I will not say this again: Get the hell out of my lab, and do _not_ darken my door again!" The two of them just stood there. Nick and Warrick were outside, I noticed. And then Sara joined them. Great, why don't we just get someone with a camera to tape this and then we'll just put it on Youtube?! I folded my arms, not particularly caring what anyone outside of the lab was doing. Greg and Ashley still hadn't budged, although they had started fighting with one another. "Get...**OUT**!" Both of them seemed to get the hint, and Ashley grabbed him by the arm to which he shrugged her off. I touched my face, noticing it was wet, either because I was extremely hot or because I was crying to myself. Nick and Warrick had started on Greg and then Sara, looking seriously annoyed, took Ashley off for a chat. I sat down in the chair, completely out-of-breath. I took the sample of blood and took a swab of it, then placing it into a container and doing my thing. I heard the PussyCat Dolls in the background, so I unplugged the stereo. It wasn't His and it sure as Hell wasn't _mine_. So that left one option: Ashley. Anything of her's that I saw was definitely getting burnt. Then stamped on. Repeatedly, probably. I sat back in the chair and cried silently for a while, until Nick came in. He put his hands on his hips and sighed. I had cooled down a bit, but apparently Nick hadn't. He looked angry, but he sounded fine.

"Hey. How are you?" He asked, eyebrow raised.

I laughed. "I'm..." Awful. "I'm fine, I suppose."

Nick pulled up a chair and half-smiled, touching my arm. "To be fair, Allie...I don't think he kissed her."

I frowned. "I don't want to talk about them, Nicky." I really didn't. I wanted them out of my mind. I wanted to have a picture of Greg in my mind and not see the back of 'Her' head. My heart felt absolutely split in two. I just wanted to sit in the corner and cry until I looked like a beetroot. "You got anything you want me to test?"

Nick shook his head. "Nope. Just wanted to check in on you."

"I'll be fine. Could you, uh...could you just give me half an hour? Please?" I glanced over at Nick, my eyes stinging. He nodded this time, then got up.

"I'll be in the evidence room." And then he left. I saw Ashley flouncing along outside but she didn't come in. Which, by all means, was a great thing! Because I knew that if she came in, I was definitely going to kill her. The machine beeped, indicating to me that the results were in. I waited a while, tested again and then I printed them out. I got out and had a walk around the place, looking for Catherine. The great thing about the lab is that nobody bothered with anyone else's business. We were all very forgiving people. Nobody looked at me and nobody stopped me. I landed in Grissom's office, after knocking, of course, and found Catherine. I sighed and sat down, handing her the results.

"Uh, _not_ cocaine, but ecstasy. She was getting high and getting by." I sat back, smiling as best I could. Catherine smiled feebly back at me, placing her hand on my arm.

"Honey...are you okay?"

I nodded. "I'm good." I grinned at Grissom this time. "How's the 'roaches?"

Grissom furrowed his brows. "Very well, thank you."

Then they exchanged a look, but Catherine turned back. "Look, Allie, I'm sure Greg didn't-"

"Catherine, honestly...I'm fine with it. Seriously." I held my hands up, wishing they would drop it already. "If he wants her, he can have her. Vice versa. I seriously don't care and have nothing more to say on the subject." You big, shockingly-bad, evil liar, Allie! That is _not_ what you're thinking. No way. I had plenty to say on the subject and it was _not_ alright if he wanted her and vice versa. "Anyway, I'm gonna head home. Hodges should be here soon. Night, guys."

Grissom and Catherine both said goodnight to me at the same time, then I smiled and left the office. Down the hall, I wondered where Greg was. Shocking that the only thing I could think of was my scut of a fiancé. I loved him, though. Hopelessly and inexplicably. I went in and found him in the locker room. I rolled my eyes and opened my locker.

Great. My stomach just constricted. Will I never learn?

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**(Third Person POV)**

Greg was sickened. Heartily, majorly sickened and scunnered. He had never kissed Ashley, nor had he thought on it. He knew it was wrong to hate a woman and to have evil thoughts towards them, but he really, really couldn't stick Ashley. She was annoying, sickeningly-sweet and altogether too abrupt and aggressive. Allie was exactly her opposite. Nice, perfect Allie who's heart he had just broken. He rubbed his eyes and held his head in his hands. Just then, Allie walked in. It was clear and evident that she hadn't stopped crying since the incident. He sighed and waited for her to come round to his side. Reluctantly, she walked round in front of him and started opening her locker, all the time trying to avoid eye-contact, which she was blatantly bad at. She glanced back at him, fighting the urge to smile. Sure, they'd fought before. Stupid, useless little tiffs that meant nothing and generally ended in the two of them giggling over the thing that fueled the fire on said tiff. But this was serious, and would take a long time for Allie to get over. Jeez, it would take him all his time to get over it. Greg stood up and leant against the locker next to Allie, and sighed. She blinked and quickly looked at him, scowling. Greg didn't really care about whatever Allie looked like, if she had been crying or if she was as mad as a lion with a thorn in it's paw, she was always gorgeous to him. More so than any other girls' he had seen about the town lately.

"Hey," He muttered, very quietly. Allie swallowed, figuratively ignoring him. He cleared his throat. "You look great." This time, he got a response of an eye-roll and a glare. He nodded. "Baby, you have _got_ to listen to me!" He shot his hands up, hoping this time she would believe him. Allie unbuttoned her shirt and turned round to him.

"Do _not_ call me 'baby'." Of course, she didn't _mean_ that. She just wanted to appear tough. She pulled the shirt off and stuffed it into her locker. Greg examined her, desperately wanting to pull her into a hug. A random tear fell off of her cheek, onto her collarbone and then trailing down onto the top of her dotty-blue bra. He pulled his eyes up and attempted a smile.

"I'm sorry. You have to believe me, Allie. I didn't kiss her and I didn't want _any_ of this." He shook his head, eyebrows furrowed. Going one step further, he placed his hand on her bare midriff. She slapped it away and wiped her eye. She really wished that he hadn't done that.

"Just...leave me...alone!" With that, she pulled on another top and ran out of the locker room.

This was _not_ going to be easy, Greg thought to himself as he plopped back down onto the seat.

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**A/N: Bonjour! **

**Ooh, I am evil, just stopping it there. Poor Greg, I really feel sorry for him. I really, really loathe Ashley! And here I invented her! Jeez, she's irksome!**

**Anyways, thank you all so, so, SO much for reviewing the last chapter. I love reviews! They really, really make my day. And they are all so unique! Each one is full of fun and greatness. Squee!**

**So, please leave me a review...and have a fantastic rest of the day,**

**Love,**

**JauntyChick**

**XOX**


	16. Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

**(Third Person POV)**

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Not knowing what to do with herself or where to go, Allie figured that she could sleep on Greg's sofa for the night. She surely wasn't sleeping in the bed, not with Him. On her way there, she stopped at the bar. She needed a drink. Preferably _not_ alcohol. Just water. Just...something to clear her head. This was a good bar, according to Nick and Warrick. Nice people, good drinks, great atmosphere. Not one of he sleazy, slimy dumps that were all over Las Vegas. Allie put her bag down on the counter and sighed. If she could've, she would have said that her happy level was four out of ten. That four was only because she was really looking forward to the drink and then sleep. She was just fed-up. Badly, truly fed-up. Not depressed, because that wasn't in her vocabulary. But she didn't want to lose Greg, as a friend or as a partner. Then there was his weird, dysfunctional family. They were nuts, but she loved them all the same. Allie ordered a glass of orange juice and sighed. There was only a select few in the bar, all over thirty, at least. She had a quick look around as the barman handed her the drink. She paid him, muttering only a quick thanks. Greg crossed her mind again, and she wondered if he was worrying about her. God knows she was worried about him. She had a feeling that maybe he was telling the truth. But he had only just said that no, he never kissed her. But what happened _before_ the kiss? The barman, Antonio, put his glass down and frowned at her, almost quizzically.

"You know," He sounded Spanish to Allie, but, a very rare occurrence, she might be wrong. "You do not look so happy, Miss. May I ask why?"

Allie smiled, feebly. "Nah, I just...had a bit of a rubbish day. It's nothin'." She was getting to be a good liar, maybe too good. Still, she couldn't fool herself.

Antonio grinned. "Okay. I'll leave you alone." And so he did. He went off, gave Allie another few drinks and then came back a long while later. Allie actually felt her worries getting washed away with each drink, almost feeling happier, more relaxed. But still quite tired. "How are you now?" He asked her, big grin still on his face. Allie grinned back, giggling.

"I am...brilliant! On top of the world. Fan...tastic!" She circled the rim of her pineapple juice. A few drinks ago, everything had begun to taste a bit...funky. Less fruity and a bit more bitter. But now, though, she didn't care. She felt like dancing. "And...I need another drink, Tony." She sat back in her chair, nearly falling off. Antonio smiled to himself as he poured the last remains of vodka into a half glass of apple juice. He handed it to her, hands behind his back. She grinned. "Thank you...what is this?" She eyed it curiously.

"It is...apple juice." He nodded. He was glad that she hadn't noticed any of his machinations. He decided to himself that she wasn't the smartest bulb in the box. But she was cute. And obviously in despair. Allie looked over at the door and sighed. She missed Greg. Suddenly, a short, friendly-looking girl walked into the bar. Her name was Danni, and she had to force herself into the bar every evening. She was only working there so as she had enough money to buy a car, currently her primary goal. She winced as she walked up to Antonio, possibly the slimiest guy she had ever had the misfortune to meet. She hated him and she hated the bar...but a jeep was an inviting prospect. She noticed a dark-haired, black-eyed woman on one of the stools. Tony had probably been working his magic on her. Danni put her apron on and sighed heavily. Getting behind the bar, she quickly swatted Antonio out of the way. "Ah...Danni. You are looking beautiful, as always."

Danni kept looking ahead, a few inches away from the heavily drunk girl on the stool. She tutted and turned to Allie. "I bet he's tried that line on you, huh?"

Allie wrinkled her nose, laughing. "Nope. He has been the..._perfect_ gentleman! I'm Allie."

"Danni." She extended her hand and smiled. This girl had no chance with Antonio. "Say, Allie...how many of _those_," Danni nodded to her drink. "Have you had?"

Allie had to think about that one. It seriously took her a long time to figure it out. "About...maybe...eight. Nine?"

Danni frowned. "And what exactly is it?"

"Well." Allie smiled, brow furrowed as if in deep thought. "I think the first two were orange juices. Then some pineapple juice...and I do _not_ know what this is." She leant in closer to Danni. "But it is tasty."

Danni nodded. Antonio was off tending one of the other tables in the place. She pointed to Allie's bag. "Is that a Louis Vuitton?" She tutted to herself as it was the first brand name that popped into her head.

Allie scowled, looked down at her bag and put it onto the counter. It definitely wasn't designer. Cute, but inexpensive. "I don't think so. Greg bought me it. Birthday present." Allie sighed. Now she _really_ missed Greg. Suddenly, Antonio came up behind Allie and handed her another drink. Allie looked at it, admiring the very pretty colours of red, blue and purple. Her brain wasn't functioning properly, so grey would've excited her. "What is this little contraption?"

"This...is...a fruit cocktail." Tony grinned, smugly. His looks were okay, but nothing Allie was interested in. Danni opened her mouth to protest, but another customer came up to the bar and ordered a large amount of drinks. She would have to deal with Allie and Tony in a few moments. So, Allie chatted - getting drunker by the second - and chatted, as if her words would never run out. Danni was trying to get the drinks over with, knowing full well what was coming next. One of the glasses broke, so that wasn't a big help. Antonio had inched in closer to Allie, but she didn't notice the way he was brazenly flirting with her. He put his hand over her cheek and she furrowed her eyebrows. This guy was getting _way_ too close for comfort. Danni managed to get all fifteen drinks to the other table and cleaned up the glass. By the time she had turned round, Antonio was lifting Allie off her seat. Thankfully, she had left her bag. God damn Antonio! Danni rifled through Allie's bag, carefully picking out her phone. She hated doing this, and it was all too frequent. Allie had mentioned someone...Greg? She looked through the phonebook and dialed his number. After a few rings, he picked up.

"Allie?" His voice was hopeful, and just a teensy bit lethargic. Danni put her hand to her head and walked out to the back.

"Hi...is this Greg?" Dumb question.

"Yeah, who are you?"

"I'm Danni, look...you really have to get to the, uh, Centra Bar. Allie's here and she's...well, she's drunk. There's this guy and he's a real slime-ball. Just, get here quick!" Danni hung up and quickly went out to the back. Antonio wouldn't do anything if she was hanging around. She stood beside him, arms folded, as he was busy giving Allie a neck-rub. The poor girl was severely out-of-it. "Tony, stop. It."

Antonio turned round, got up and opened the door. "Fine. She's useless anyway." With that, he trailed his way back into the bar. Danni looked over at Allie, who seemed to be staring at her hand intensely. Danni sat down and put her arm around her.

"You're engaged."

"Ha!" Allie laughed, sniffling slightly. "_Was_ engaged." She sighed. "I blew it."

Danni smiled at her, hoping this was reassurance. "Okay. Uh, we have to go in now. A friend of your's is on his way. We'll get you heated up before you go, okay?"

Allie nodded and willingly headed into the bar.

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Greg shook his head as he opened the door of the Centra Bar. He knew Allie would only yell at him if he went anywhere near her. She needed time to cool off. He entered, instantly seeing her sitting next to a large, blazing fire. She looked cosy...but drunk. There was a girl next to her, too, looking very concerned. Greg sauntered up to her.

"Are you Danni?" He asked, digging his hands into his pockets. Danni nodded.

"Yes. Thank God you came. That guy at the bar...he spiked her drinks. She thought it was fruit-juice." Danni was just pleased that it went no further than the drink-spiking.

Greg nodded. He knew Allie wouldn't have went near alcohol if she had a choice. She liked to have full control of her mind at all times. "Thanks...look, could you take my phone and call the guy called 'Jim Brass'. Have him come down here and arrest the guy."

Danni smiled, taking charge of Greg's cell. He walked over to Allie, smiling. She looked up and grinned. "Greg! Man, I missed you!"

Well, that was a change of tune for her. Greg smiled to himself. "Allie, babe, can you get up?"

Allie frowned, rolling her eyes as she always did. She attempted to get up. "Of course I can!" But failed as she stumbled back onto the chair. Greg laughed and took her hand. She was severely drunk. He looked over to the guy at the bar with disgust. What a pig. Allie managed to stand up long enough for Greg to take hold of her waist. She put an arm around his neck, which was majorly helpful. Greg's hair had tousled itself to the front, and Allie liked it. Even in her drunk state of mind. She looked up at him and smiled. "I like you." To this, Greg burst out laughing. He certainly hoped so. Maybe she had forgotten most of the day's events. "But I can't believe you kissed that skank." Okay...maybe _not_. Greg walked Allie up to the bar, where the guy was now sitting reading the paper. Greg managed to bite his tongue, not particularly wanting to cause any trouble. Danni came over and whispered to Greg.

"Oh...thanks, Greg. I was really getting worried. I called the Brass guy. I'll just tell him what happened, yeah?"

Greg nodded, still grinning. Allie wasn't really moving much, and she looked tremendously tired. "And, uh, thank _you_. God knows what would've happened if you never called me. Here," He dug around his pocket and pulled out $20, handing it over to Danni. "Enjoy yourself."

Danni grinned, widely. "Thanks. You two take care, okay?" This guy was too nice.

Greg walked over to the door with Allie, explaining that Brass was a nice guy, very easy-going. They walked over to his car, after he had made sure Allie's car was locked. Allie leant against the car, arms folded, but a smile still spread over her face. Greg cocked his head to the side. He had only seen her in such a state once before, which was Hodges' fault. His intentions were definitely better than Antonio's, however. "You okay, Moore?"

Allie winked, stumbling forward. Greg bit his lower lip, barely concealing a grin. Even though he'd had a bad day, this was definitely one of the best things he had seen all week. "Gregory...I feel brilliant!"

Greg blinked. "Really?" He opened the door for her, motioning for her to get in. Reluctantly, and with a curious look on her face, she got in and attempted to put her seat-belt on. Greg rolled his eyes and plugged her in, shaking his head. "You're a disaster, Allie."

"But you still think I'm great." She waggled her finger in front of him. He smiled, still shaking his head disbelievingly. He got into the car, put the safety belt over himself and yawned. Allie was trying to figure out how to work the radio. "What is up with this thing? It isn't...not switching...ugh." She frowned and gave up. It was as if the world had some evil plan against her. Greg turned it on for her, changing the station.

'_You don't remember me, but, I remember you...twas not so long ago, you broke my heart in two...'_

Allie nodded. Very true. She managed to turn the station herself this time. "Why is always depressing, stupid love songs they play? I mean, country and, uh, cowboy things have absolutely got the right idea. Wife runs away with the dog, man is left _miserable _and _alone_. Only, it's the man that runs away with the dog. The dog being a short-assed blonde chick that wears too much make-up." She winced. "_But _I refuse to let it get me down. I do not do that! Besides...if you leave then I can always marry Hodges. He likes me. And if Cher's strong enough, then so am I."

Greg tutted. "Honey, I did not run away with the dog. Or Ashley. I love _you_." He knew she was drunk and it was pretty much pointless telling her anything meaningful.

Allie smiled. "I love you, too. But you _are_ an asshole." Greg laughed and they chatted randomly about nonsense until they got home. Allie was floating away on cloud nine, but her inevitable downfall was clear to Greg. The hangover she'd have in the morning was not something Greg would be envious of. She opened her door, stumbling over the side. Greg wrinkled his nose as he came round to the passenger side of the car. Allie was on the ground, shaking her head. "Stupid car. Seriously, Greg - this place is trying to kill me. First the microwave...then the radio and now it's your car."

Greg took her hand and lifted her up. She yattered on to him until he put her on the bed. She frowned and stared down at her leg. Greg tilted his head, looking concerned. "You okay?"

Allie nodded, biting her lip. She hadn't a clue as to how she was supposed to get out of these trousers. Or the top. And the shoes! "I think..." Greg raised his eyebrows, waiting for the word. "Maybe I could do with some help, please." She nodded to herself, budging over a little, letting Greg sit next to her. He smiled and pulled her legs up onto the bed. He started unlacing her boots and she grinned, lying back on the bed.

"Did you get anything to eat?" He was worried. Allie furrowed her brows, thinking hard. She placed her hand on her stomach and sighed.

"No, but I'm not hungry." Then she sat up, still feeling good. "Did you? I, uh, I could make you something."

Greg pulled off the last boot and smiled. "Nah, I had some bacon." He stood up. "Can you get the rest?"

Allie blinked. "The rest of what?"

"Uh...your clothes." He looked at her, doubting very much that she could. She tried unbuttoning her jeans, but it truly wasn't happening for her. Greg knelt down, sighing, and unbuttoned them for her. He pulled them off and discarded them at the side of bed. He stood up again and then pulled her tee-shirt off. All the time, Allie was focusing her sights intently on her hand. Greg took her hand and had a quick look at it only to discover there was nothing there. He went over to the dresser and picked her out a set of pink and green pyjamas. He knew rightly that she would complain of being frozen tomorrow. She pulled the trousers on, with great difficulty, but Greg buttoned he shirt and lifted her up to the top of the bed.

"You know...I am fully well and perfectly good to get into my own bed." Allie rubbed her eyes.

Greg pulled the covers over her and started getting himself ready. He had been asleep already, but then Danni called. "I know. Just makin' sure, is all." Allie felt her eyelids getting heavy, so she inched in closer to Greg and put an arm around him. She sighed, contentedly. "Allie?" Greg asked, sincerely hoping she wouldn't yell at him in the morning.

"Mm?"

He put his own arms around her and smiled. "Goodnight."

"Mm. I love you." She grinned into his chest, already half-asleep. Greg closed his eyes and waited, drifting off into a comfortable sleep.

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**A/N: Aloha!**

**Well, I really enjoyed that chapter. It was fun! I like drunk Allie. She seems kinda...relaxed. Which is nice. Poor Greg, though. **

**Thanks again to all of my reviewers: Danica, you got a cameo! By the way, if Lovin'Greg247 sends me her real name, she'll get one, too!**

**Please R&R! I am addicted to reviews!**

**Have a great day,**

**JauntyChick**

**XOX**


	17. Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

**(Third Person)**

Allie opened one eye and instantly regretted it, not only because it stung, but because she was too tired to even question the possibility of being awake or getting up that would eventually ensue. She groaned, pulling a bit of the cover over her head. She decided that it was the flu or something. But...aside from a killer headache and a worrying feeling of lethargy, she felt great. She stirred again, this time opening both eyes. She felt something warm around her waist and looked down. Now, ordinarily, Allie wouldn't have cared if Greg was attached to her in her sleep, in fact, she may have even found it nice...comforting. But there was something in her mind telling her it was wrong, although she couldn't hear it due to the incessant pounding of her temples. Oh, yeah. She was mad at him. She couldn't quite remember why, but she knew there was something afoot. She never moved him, however. Instead, she moved herself closer to him and stretched out. She pushed her head farther into the pillow, hoping for a miraculous recovery from her headache. God, why did she even _have_ a headache? Considering the last time she had one was...almost rolling on for a year or so. And this was a bad one, possible even the worst she'd ever had. She rolled over slightly, still refusing to move Greg's arm.

"Ow..." She creased her brow, only noticing that she felt kind of sick, too. Allie pondered about the pros and cons of waking Greg up. She moved his hand slightly and sat up. The pain was a little too much to handle at this time of morning, so she quickly lay back down again. Greg stirred, eyebrows rising as he stretched out. He opened his eyes and smiled at Allie.

"Hello." He mumbled into the pillow. Allie opened her mouth and swallowed. The room was spinning. Dear God, why was the room _spinning_?

"I-ah!" She moved again, but the pounding in her head was getting worse. "Oh, my head!" She immediately slapped her hand against her forehead, eyes tightly shut. "Greg...I really need help."

Greg sat up, yawning. "Headache?" He smirked, just knowing that she would kill him for it. But he could not - absolutely _couldn't_ - resist doing it. Allie glared at him, turning onto her stomach and sighing.

"What the hell happened last night?"

Greg put himself in the same position as Allie, only he propped his head up with his hand. "Uh, you went to a bar-"

"The Centra Bar?" Allie arched an eyebrow, groggily. Greg nodded.

"Anyway, the bar guy - who is currently being held in custody -, spiked your drinks. You were completely oblivious apparently."

"He..._spiked _my drinks?"

Greg nodded again, slower. "Yeah. Also said you were as 'hot as a jalapeno'." Allie smiled.

"Who told you that?"

"Brass." Greg grinned. He wondered if this meant all was forgiven. Knowing Allie, probably not. "Anyway, this girl that works at the bar, she called me and told me to get down to the bar ASAP."

Allie smiled even wider at this. "That was nice. Thank you." She rubbed her eyes and yawned. "I have this feeling. I don't know, but...it's something like I should be mad at you." Greg gave her a small frown-like smirk. Kind of pathetic. It was to do with work...Hodges...something else..._Ashley_. Oh, yes. Now the memories were flooding back to her. She rolled her eyes and groaned again. This day was not going well for her. "Oh. Right." Allie sighed and put her feet out of the bed and tried her very best to stand up. "Uh...I have to go to the kitchen and then...ugh." She rubbed the top of her head, nauseous feeling still floating around. She wished she had never remembered the image of Ashley and Greg. Why couldn't she have been left in a blissful state of ignorance? Greg had followed her into the living room and sat her down on the arm of the sofa. He rubbed her back and smiled to himself.

"You want an aspirin?"

Allie groaned again. Why did he always have to be so nice? It was ruining her illusions of strangling him. Not that she wanted to... She shook her head, rolling her eyes. "I'll get it myself, thanks." Don't be polite. Remember: You hate him, he's a swine. A lying, cheating...oh, who was Allie trying to kid? He's brilliant and she couldn't even imagine Greg so much as _glancing_ at anyone else. Maybe that was her high self-esteem talking. She got up again and went into the medicine cabinet that resided in the kitchen. She took two aspirin out of the bottle and quickly swallowed them, bypassing the water completely. She couldn't remember Antonio very well, but she really wasn't feeling anything nice towards him right then. She turned on the TV, which seemed to shout at her. Greg sat next to her, smiling sympathetically. Of course, she couldn't help the way her lips curved upwards, revealing her softer, nicer side. "How many drink did I have last night?"

Greg shrugged. "Probably eight or nine. You're not the first victim of spiked drinks. Happened to me once or twice." Allie placed her legs underneath herself and pulled the cushion up onto her knees, feeling slightly annoyed about the whole, rotten situation. She could have easily done without going to the stupid bar in the first place. She sighed again, and Greg felt a pang of remorse. "Do you wanna yell at me or something?"

Allie half-smiled and looked up at him. She had to admit, she kind of _did_ want to yell at him. "How could you be so...ridiculously, _painfully_ blind to my pain?"

Greg blinked, feeling more than a little bit confused. He could very plainly see that she was in pain. "It should go away in a couple of hours-"

"Not my head!" Allie slapped her hand against her leg. Sometimes Greg could be a little hopeless. "You! You and her. God, Greg, I can't stand her, and then she instantly came on to you because of that fact. And everybody knew it. Everybody knew it but they never said anything about it. Jeez, Debbie in the print lab knew it." She shook her head, then looked over at Greg. He looked - and felt - thoroughly miserable. Allie somehow couldn't help but feel sorry for him. "She just...she homed in on _you_ for a reason."

Greg waited for a few moments then sat back, letting out a large sigh. He wished badly for Allie to come back to her senses and start chatting properly to him. "Okay, I don't like her either, Al...and I hate hanging around with her instead of you. But I've tried telling you that _I never_ kissed _her_." He felt rather brave for speaking this aloud, although this was now about the fifteenth time he'd said it.

Allie scoffed. "Yeah."

Greg felt that nice little brave feeling inside of him suddenly get punched in the gut. His stomach sank and he sighed again. Stupid Ashley. He could've killed her and made sure that he got away with it. Everytime he thought about her, his anger-level rose by about 90. He had a great thing going with Allie, and Ashley blew it for him. Allie would probably never look at him the same way again. "Well, I'm going for a shower. You want a blanket or somethin'?"

Allie shook her head. The pain was actually beginning to ease off slightly. Still had a long way to go, unfortunately. "No thanks."

Greg nodded and headed in for his shower. He undressed and then turned on the hot water. He stepped in and sighed, letting his head bang against the cold, wet wall, dampening the flattened mass of spikes that resided on his head. He hated arguing and he hated Ashley.

One way or another, this thing was getting sorted out.

STAT.

Later on, around lunchtime, Allie had taken a shower and was feeling a lot better. Her headache had eased and she no longer felt the disgusting half-drunk feeling. Greg was in good enough humour, and she still couldn't muster up any venom for him. She didn't really want to yell at _him_, per se. Although, if she found Ashley, there most certainly would be yelling involved. She cleaned the apartment up a bit, hoovered, cleaned the floors and whatnot and then she decided that she would go shopping. The fridge generally wasn't _that_ empty. She pulled her jacket on and got her bag. Moving into the living room, she found Greg bobbing his head along to the music channels. She rolled her eyes and smiled slightly. Of course, she didn't let _him_ see this. She cleared her throat and pointed to the door. Greg turned round and raised his eyebrows.

"Uh, I'm heading out for some shopping. You wanna come or...?" She shrugged, feeling somewhat nervous. Her stomach constricted slightly as she watched Greg consider the good and bad elements of shopping. With a girl. She held her hands up. "Actually! It's okay. Don't worry about it." The good thing was, whatever one of them wanted to do and the other didn't, nobody minded if said person never showed up. Allie was very lenient. "You need anything?"

_Yes_, Greg thought to himself, _you_. Instead, he smiled and cleared his throat. "I'm good, thanks. Be careful."

"Will do." Allie bit her lip, wanting to continue on chatting to Greg. However, she turned on her heel and walked to the door. "See you, Greg."

Greg nodded, smiling pitifully. "Bye, Allie."

Half an hour into the shopping, Allie had only just made her way into aisle three. The place was absolutely packed to the brim. People and their offspring _everywhere_, all with shopping trolleys or baskets and all extremely angry-looking. There was Allie, stuck in the middle with her own trolley, desperately trying to manoeuver herself to the frozen food section. Ready-meals were supposedly bad for a person, but they were tasty. She picked up a packet of tomato and basil pasta that you only had to pout into a cup and pour boiling water onto and then discovered one for a whole two-dollars cheaper. Taking at look at both of them - extensively - she discovered there was no difference, so she opted for the cheap one. Greg probably wouldn't have noticed, anyway. She felt a hand on her shoulder and, instinctively, she turned round and gasped. Suddenly, her whole good-time was shattered to the ground. She raised one eyebrow and pursed her lips, also placing her hands on her hips.

"Ashley." Good, Allie, she thought to herself. That sounded _fierce_. Ashley giggled and folded her arms.

"Well, hi, Allie. How are you today?" She leant over Allie's trolley, not leaving a whole lot of her top to the imagination. Allie managed to keep her cool, frozen expression. The image of Her and Greg had faded a lot, leaving only bitterness and hatred.

"Fine." Short, and in no way sweet. Yet Ashley persisted.

"Mm. You look alright. Not bad, but..." She widened her eyes and blinked a few times. Allie picked up a few more ready-meals and Ashley kept on walking after her. "How's Greg?"

Allie rolled her eyes. "He's fine, too."

Ashley gritted her teeth. Winding Allie up wasn't as easy as she had originally thought. She was a tough cookie. "I see. So, has he mentioned me?"

Allie couldn't believe her! The audacity of some people... she shook her head and cleared her throat. "No, he has not. I don't expect him to."

"Really?" Ashley examined her nails. Fake, just like her. "'Cause you didn't seem too happy about _us _the other day."

Allie hated the way she spoke oh-so breezily and she _loathed_ the way she emphasized 'us'. She walked up to Ashley and folded her arms. "Listen, what you get up to with anyone else on your time is fine with me, but when you start fooling around with _my_ man - then you have to answer to _me_." She spoke firmly, and Ashley was actually a teensy bit scared. And still, she continued.

"Mm...Greg didn't put up too much of a fight, if you ask me."

Allie felt her blood boil and her heart sink. She could not have just said that. It didn't sound right. "Ashley, why don't you just go away and stay out of my sight? It'd be best for the both of us."

Ashley giggled. "Oh, silly...I'm only just getting warmed up." With that, she winked, and walked away. Allie took a packet of frozen peas and flung them with all of her force into the trolley.

She couldn't _wait_ to get her hands on Ashley Kelly.

**A/N: Ooh, she's despicable! **

**I really hate Ashley, but, unfortunately, I must prevail with her for the next few chapters. Awful, I know. And Danica, you may be right, I might have to make her 'disappear'. Hehehe. Boy howdy, if I was Allie, I would slap her silly. **

**Okay, thank you all for the reviews, as always - they make my day and I love you all! **

**Oh, and a wee quick thanks to all the people that have favourited and alerted this story. You guys rock, too!**

**Please R&R, cause you know you want to ;)**

**Have a lovely day,**

**JauntyChick**

**XOX**


	18. Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen

In the course of the next two days, Allie and Greg still hadn't made up and it was as if they were constantly walking on broken glass with one-another. Going to work was particularly difficult, what with all the people flashing Allie little sympathetic smiles and everyone glaring at Greg. Of course, Ashley was the most difficult. Constantly flaunting and parading herself around Greg. Sickening, not just to Allie, but to everyone else in the lab. Nick and Sara had especially taken to hating her. Allie tried her best to ignore everything, just going at her own pace and moving with her own natural groove. Get samples, run them, check them, see if there was anything else she could do and then hand the results to the correct person. Excellent. And she didn't have much to do with Ashley _or_ Greg. And she missed him. She missed playing with his hair, kissing in the locker room and random conversations whilst processing. For the meantime, however, Nick and Warrick were doing perfectly fine at keeping her in a good mood. Grissom was keeping a very low profile and so was Hodges. While she was checking for high levels of ephedrine on one of Sara's cases, Allie was flicking through a cooking magazine. The machine beeped and she reached over to grab the paper, and suddenly she toppled over, landing on the floor with a big 'crack!'. She groaned. Things just weren't going her way. Nick just _had_ to waltz in at that precise moment in time.

"Allie, what're you doing on the floor?"

Allie got a grip on the chair and pulled herself up. Elbows weren't a good place to land on. She rubbed her arm and laughed. "We were fighting and I guess gravity won."

Nick shook his head at her and examined her arm. "Looks better than it sounded, anyway. It still hurt?"

Allie creased her brow. It actually did. "Not really." Best not to worry anyone. Especially not Nick. "It's fine." With that, she picked up the results and checked them over. "Hm. Thirty times more than anyone should take. Not that anyone should take it, but."

Nick had a swift look over them. "Sara'll be pleased. Hey, me and Warrick are going out tonight and we were wonderin' if you wanted to go, too. Boys' night out, type of thing."

Allie grinned. "Uh, I'd love to. But I'm not a boy."

Nick shrugged. "We'll cut your hair, take off your make-up." He laughed, playing with a swab. "Well?"

"I guess...okay. Is Greg coming?"

Nick frowned. "No." Ever since 'the incident', Nick and Warrick had been trying to keep the peace between Greg and Allie. Basically, trying to spend equal amounts of time with the two of them talking it over, saying how the other one was getting on and how thoroughly miserable they looked. Allie knew he had to be feeling the effects by now. She felt heart-sorry for him. Judging by the way he hadn't spent _any_ time near Ashley and he had barely chatted to anybody. Allie wanted desperately to run into the lab and wrap herself around him. Another few weeks of torture wouldn't hurt him, though. "Would you mind if he did?"

Allie shrugged elaborately. "Not really. I mean, I share a bed with him, so obviously I'm not _that_ bothered by him."

Nick frowned. "So...what, you're just ignoring this?" He sounded confused, but he looked incredulous. Allie half-smirked.

"I'm not doing anything about it, Nick. Not ignoring, nor am I fighting with him about it. I mean, I can't, can I? The ball's in his court. You know...I don't think any of it was his idea, Nick. He never kissed her, I'm sure of it." Allie took another look at the results and sighed. "Ah, anyway. I'd better go off and find Sara, give her the results. I'll see you at lunch." And then she was off, and so was Nick, after saying goodbye. As soon as she left the lab, though, she crashed into Greg. _Literally_, bumped into his arms. She yelped and looked up at him. His hair was still great. Short, but getting lighter.

"Ow." She held up her arm, both of them maintaining perfect eye-contact. Greg quickly broke it and looked down at her arm. He didn't want to stare at her, because he knew if he did, then he wouldn't be able to keep up the can't-talk-to-her charade. It was so incredibly hard to do.

"Sorry. Did I hurt you?" He noticed the nasty, red colour her elbow had turned.

Allie smiled, subconsciously. She couldn't keep this up anymore. "No...you never hurt me." Seeing Allie grinning like a fool somehow made Greg do the same. She was infectious. He put his hand on her arm and returned to staring at her.

"So..." He started, but couldn't find the words to finish. How awkward. Suddenly, in his flash of absolute genius, he let go of her arm. "Are you doing anything tonight?"

Allie bit her lower lip. Damn Nick and Warrick and damn bad timing! "I was thinkin' on going out with Warrick and Nick for a while, but it depends."

Greg folded his arms. He wondered if he should back up a little, considering the amount of space between them was minimal, almost like a hug. "On what?"

"On what you want me for." Simple as.

Greg started gnawing on his own lower lip. "Just a drive. And a chat."

Allie felt her stomach rise a little, and nodded eagerly. "Uh, okay. Where are we going?"

Greg shrugged. "Not telling."

Allie rolled her eyes. He was such a child. And a geek. But then, so was she. "Right. See you later, I guess." Again, Allie started off in search of Sara, confused and just a little excited.

At lunchtime, everyone was nestled in the break room. Yet another slow day for crime. That seemed to be growing more and more frequent and one couldn't help but wonder if it was the calm before the storm. Allie finished off her baguette and leant over to Nick.

"Hey, Nicky...I don't think I'll be able to make it tonight." She whispered, cautiously glancing over at Greg. He was reading the paper, trying to avoid getting talked to. Nick raised his eyebrows.

"Oh, I see. No problem. We'll take Hodges." And that was the end of the conversation. Nick headed back to his pasta. Allie bit her lip and moved on to Catherine. They chatted for a while about work, Lindsay, and what kind of shoe Catherine should buy for the party she was having next week. It was all going great until Ashley came in, dampening the whole mood. Catherine and Sara started reading magazines, as did Grissom. Nick and Warrick were busy sitting in the corner hoping nothing would occur. Allie and Greg were across the room from each other. Greg swallowed and still managed to bite his tongue. He was originally hoping that Ashley wouldn't go anywhere near him. Unfortunately, this was not going to happen. She smiled, looking very aggressive indeed. Greg rolled his eyes and went back to the paper. Silence filled the room entirely. Allie took a deep breath and focused on her hand. She could just imagine taking it and slapping it right across Ashley's face. That sounded immensely tempting.

"Well, Greg, I have to say...that shirt looks really great on you." She put one hand on her hip and the other hand up to her face, as if in awe. Greg looked down at himself. He _knew_ he looked good. He didn't need that no-good-tramp telling him.

"Allie got it for me." Allie looked up from her hand. He was right. She remembered distinctly the day that she bought it. It was blue, with pink and brown stripes on it. She thought he would've hated it, but he didn't.

Ashley tutted. "Mm. Now that you mention it...I've seen nicer." With that said, she sat down across from Greg - but not near Allie - and crossed her legs. That skirt was _way_ too short to do that. Greg wrinkled his nose, feeling very disgusted. He couldn't believe the nerve tat this girl had on. Disgraceful. Allie sat back and surreptitiously watched the two of them. Greg was ignoring her, and she wouldn't take it. "Oh, did you see that movie last night? What was it..." She drummed her perfectly-manicured nails against her face. "Oh, yeah, _Fatal Attraction_."

Greg sighed. "No." Allie had to admit, he was doing a great job of being elusive. Ashley sighed and tried again. She stood up and sat on the arm of his chair, legs still crossed. Nick shot Warrick a 'no way!' expression. Sara and Catherine shared a knowing look while Grissom was observing as best he could. Truth be told, he was proud of Greg for sticking by Allie. Ashley ran her finger through Greg's hair, making him feel utterly sickened and nasty. He hated her touching him and he hated her trying to steal him. Hated it, hated it, _hated_ it. Allie sat there in the corner, feeling entirely..._vulnerable_, for some reason. Totally helpless, like someone on the outside wanting desperately to get in.

"If you want, I could do your hair tonight. I'm free." The way she said it made Allie's blood run cold. She wondered how Greg could even refuse, with this pretty girl almost _on_ his shoulder, playing with his hair - his biggest weakness - and whispering sweet nothings in his ear. She cleared her throat, gluing her eyes to her nails. Greg could feel himself getting angrier by the second. This whole situation was _wrong_. Wrong and detestable. "Besides, I could do an _amazing_ job on it." Ashley whispered, her hand dangerously travelling to his collar. Everyone simultaneously wanted to get up and leave the room, all whilst wondering if Ashley remembered that she was in public.

Greg closed his paper and smacked it onto the table. He stood up and frowned, now almost bursting with rage. Enough was enough. "Look, we have to talk. In private."

Allie looked up, slight lump in her throat. Ashley stood up and took Greg's arm, but he quickly moved it. "Where do you want me?" Greg, of course, ignored this and pulled her into the locker room. Allie only just noticed that she was still wearing her engagement ring. She hoped that she wouldn't have had to take it off. As she twisted it round a bit, she remembered her and Greg's first date. What a shambles it was.

Out of the way of the crowd, Greg stood against his locker and folded his arms. Ashley was sat in front of him, looking up menacingly. The straw had broken not just the camel's back, but it's limbs, too. He was trying to think on the best way to say this, but it really wasn't happening for him. A simple 'I hate you' wouldn't go a miss, but it wasn't his style.

"Are you mad at me, Greg?"

"Yes."

"Why? I didn't do anything wrong."

Greg rolled his eyes and scoffed. "'Didn't do anything-'? Ashley, you nearly broke me and Allie up! Do you know how long I've been working to get this far with this particular relationship?" He yelled. He couldn't help himself.

Ashley shrugged. Frankly, she couldn't have cared less. "A while? But, Greg, don't you see? She isn't worth it. She's a whale-"

"Don't you dare say anything against her, Ashley." Greg raged, firmly. He liked Allie's look. She was curvaceous, maybe even ample-chested. She was skinny, though. Sometimes a little too skinny. At least she wasn't permanently-naked. "She is ten times the woman you'll ever be. If you don't leave us alone, I will get the police onto you."

Ashley scoffed. "And say what?"

Greg folded his arms. "Harassment." She stood up, placing her hand on his chest. Let him resist _this_. She leant up and kissed him on the cheek, leaving a feeling of complete horridness. She was pure poison. He pulled away from her and headed to the door. "Leave me alone. And leave Allie alone, too." In actual fact, he couldn't get away quick enough. This girl was not stirring up any good feelings in him at all. Just evil, angry ones.

Greg stormed into Grissom's office and shut the door. He was fuming, absolutely mad. Grissom took his spectacles off and smirked. Greg sighed and rubbed his face. He was getting a headache, probably from anger. Grissom waited a moment for something, _anything_, but it never came.

"May I help you, Greg?" He asked, politely.

Greg looked up, dumbfounded. "Yeah, actually. You can get that nut-job out of my lab for a start. Grissom, she's killing me!"

Grissom placed the leg of his glasses into his mouth and clamped down, deep in thought. "Well, I actually don't have a reason to, other than she's ruining staff-moral."

"Isn't that enough?" Allie asked from the doorway. Greg turned round and sighed. He wished Allie didn't have any dealings with this mess, seeing as it was mostly all his fault somehow. Well, he had an odd feeling that it did. Allie walked I further and sat in the chair next to Greg. Grissom sat forward and smiled.

"You got something to add to this conversation?" He assumed she did, seeing as she had been loitering in the doorway since Greg arrived.

"Uh, nope...I was coming to tell you that I need an hour off." She smiled, weakly. Grissom nodded.

"No problem. Although, I think you two should talk to each other. Try and sort this out."

"But-" Greg started, but Allie shushed him.

"We plan to. Later. But we actually don't have any problems. Except for 'Her'. I was perfectly happy until she came along, and I think, so was he." She pointed to Greg and smiled.

"I was. You know, Grissom," Greg was talking to Grissom but gazing at Allie. "She worries too much. She stresses herself out, the she gets sick. In fact, I bet you're dizzy. And I bet you've got a pain." He folded his arms, knowing he was right. Allie blushed. Of course she had a pain.

"I do not!" She shook her head. He knew her too well. "Anyway, if I did, I would be going to the doctor, wouldn't I?"

Greg grinned. "Why do you need an hour off?"

Allie looked at her hand. "Me and Mom were gonna go and check out dresses. Assuming you still wanted to get married, obviously."

"Of course I do." Greg mumbled, also looked at Allie's hand. She seemed to be intently focusing on her thumb, for whatever reason. "But Grissom, you have to help us out here."

Grissom sighed. "Has she done anything to anyone else?"

Allie perked up. "Who? Ashley? Yeah, she poisoned Hodges' coffee with eyedrops. A felony, I thought."

Grissom frowned. "Do we have any evidence to back this up?"

Allie nodded. "Yeah, I tested it all myself...I told you about it."

He shook his head. "No, you didn't."

Greg smiled. "She did."

Grissom widened his eyes. Surely he would've remembered _that_. Unless...maybe he didn't hear her. "Well, if you find me your evidence, I'll do my best. If not, it's out of my hands."

Allie remembered the last time Grissom had said this. She didn't want to leave then and she _refused _to leave _now_. She wasn't getting pushed out by Ashley, no _way_. "Alright. Greg," She turned to him. "I'll see you later."

Greg nodded. "Be careful." He had a right to talk about _Allie _being stressed. Pot. _Kettle_. **Black**.

**A/N: Hi!**

**Oh, I enjoyed writing this chapter. It rocked! Well, I thought so anyway. Ashley is giving me rage, badly. I'm glad she'll be gone in a few chapters. Maybe... :)**

**I might just keep you all on your toes and do something really evil involving Allie, Ashley, a car...**

**A cliff!**

**But I'm not that mean, so please R&R for me, cause you love my story and think I'm great! Oh, and I managed to get my fringe to stick up, Greg-style. It rocks! Ooh, and I have to say that I've got Writer's Block on Headstrong. Sorry! **

**Have a great rest of the day,**

**JauntyChick**

**XOX**


	19. Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

Allie walked down to the wedding-dress suppliers next to Valerie Kigton. She didn't know why she hadn't tried this place, because it seemed reasonably-enough priced and the dresses were quite pretty. Not for one second in the past couple of days had she thought about cancelling the wedding. Bonnie immediately homed right in on the scary, meringue-shaped, ivory laced dress that frightened Allie. The girls in this shop were very nice, albeit ditzy. Allie was holding back, mostly letting Bonnie see for herself what style of dresses were going around in Vegas.

"Oh," She gasped. "What about this one?" Of course, this dress was even scarier than the first, with it's large, flowery front and it's scary base colour of dark-blue. Allie let her mouth fall open momentarily.

"Mom! Are you tryin' to kill me?" She pulled her jacket tighter. Even with her thirty-odd years of experience in the retail business, Bonnie often let her fashion-judgement slide. "I mean, well, I guess it's nice, but it isn't really...nice." Allie bit her lower lip as Bonnie tutted and went back to searching.

"Well, could you tell me what you want? Pink, red, _white_, even." Bonnie couldn't imagine anyone getting married in white. A disgrace to the Moore name.

"Uh, I'm not too sure, Mom. I guess...it depends on the dress, really. And we are not spending any more than a grand on the dress. Including the shoes."

Bonnie scoffed. "So, what, three-hundred for the shoes and seven-hundred for the dress? Not going to happen, Dear."

Allie rolled her eyes, entirely frustrated. Her mother was impossible, and that was all about it. "Alright...this one's nice." She picked out another plain, cream dress. Bonnie rolled her eyes.

"No, Allie. Pick something fun, frivolous! Something that matches your personality. Something we both agree on."

Allie bit down on her lip for the hundredth time that hour. "Well, at this rate, and with the things you and me have been picking - that isn't gonna happen in a hurry, Mom." Having another wander through the store, they both agreed that there was nothing catching their eyes there. There was a vintage shop, with everything Allie could have ever wanted in a dress, but Bonnie had to disagree.

"There is no _way_ I'm having you parading around Las Vegas wearing a white rag for a dress." Bonnie scolded, flouncing into another shop. Allie decided to herself that she _hated_ dress shopping. Surely anything else to due with weddings had to be easier. She really couldn't wait to go cake-shopping with Greg. Actually, she was now really looking forward to just spending normal time with him, now that she knew what most of his thoughts on the subject were. Oh, sure, there would be discussing of serious matters, but there would definitely be romance. The next shop was fantastic...until it got to the prices. Overpriced entirely. Bonnie sat outside the shop and sighed. Allie put her hands on her hips.

"You okay, Mom?" She was slightly worried. Her mother rarely ever sat down in the middle of shopping. Bonnie smiled and cleared her throat.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just...I think you'd be better off doing this on your own. I mean, I can't be around _all_ the time, Sweetie. You need independence."

Allie smiled. "I have independence. Besides...you're not _so_ bad at dress shopping."

Bonnie looked up. "You think?" Allie nodded. In fairness, she had a keen grasp of what she liked. Just...not what Allie liked. Allie was more plain, shiny. Bonnie was definitely extravagant and dramatic. Deep, scary colours and heavy fabrics, where Allie enjoyed pastels, or bright, in-your-face colours. Allie sat down beside Bonnie, sneakily checking her watch. She only had fourteen minutes-worth of shopping, so Bonnie had better pick her pace up a bit.

"Yeah, you're good with shapes and stuff..." Allie really didn't know what she was talking about. As long as she didn't have a meringue-dress, she'd be fine. She thought her head was too big for one of those. "Anyway, I'm useless with all this stuff. I need help, Mom." Allie laughed, cocking her head suggestively to Bonnie, who rolled her eyes and stood up, flattening her hair.

"Alright, Dear. If you insist." And then she walked, regally, into the shop. Allie sighed, merrily, and headed after her. "Why don't you try this one on?" Bonnie handed her a ivory, with sequins on the spaghetti-straps, ball-gown. Allie checked her watch again. Twelve minutes, but...would Grissom really mind that much? She nodded and smiled, taking the dress off her mother. She had to digress, the dress was lovely. She checked the price-tag, then rolled her eyes. _Everything_ was too expensive. For some reason, she began getting changed into the dress. Curiosity seemed to have gotten the better of her. She pulled the dress over her head and yanked it down. Pulling the zipper up at the back, twisting round to get a proper look at herself. She grinned, feeling overwhelming happiness.

"Aaw," She giggled to herself, turning from side to side, trying to get a better look. She took her hair and tied it up with the hair-tie around her wrist. Maybe if she had a beehive...She shook her head. No way she would ever have this dress. Too much money. No point in even thinking about it. Although, it did fit perfectly, and was definitely a good shape. Nothing wrong with it. What a buzzkiller. She got changed back into her work clothes and swanned back out into the regular part of the shop. Bonnie was standing chatting to a young girl, enquiring as to when her big day was. It always amazed Allie how she could meet a person and in five minutes know _everything_ about them. She turned round and smiled at Allie.

"Well? Any good?"

Allie bit her lip and shook her head. "I'm not entirely sure it looked good on me." She nodded, then. Bonnie tilted her head.

"Well, I guess we'd better get you back off to work. But...there is a dress you _need_ to try on for me. Gloria, we'll be back tomorrow." Bonnie pointed to the girl - Gloria, apparently - that she had only moments before been buttering up. She also had a fondness for bargaining and discounts. Allie could never get into the way of that, though.

A short while later, Allie was slightly surprised by the amount of time Bonnie was trying to spend with her. She had never really tried it before, talking to her daughter this much. Then again, Allie _was_ getting married. This was definitely a big event for her. For both of them. It was only fair that she take a slight interest. Allie bit her lower lip and stared out of the window. Another thing - it was very unusual for Bonnie to drive. "So, uh, where's Carl today?" She asked, by way of starting a new conversation. Bonnie, seemingly off in another world, turned to see Allie and half-smiled.

"Hm? Oh, Carl...probably off spending time with Dylan." She sighed. Allie furrowed her brows. Something was fishy there. "They're trying out boxing and the like. Carl's idea."

"Are you okay with that?" She had a feeling that it wasn't alright, so she felt she had to ask.

Bonnie swallowed. "You know, Allie...a few years ago, you said, well, you told me...you told me people were saying that m-me and Carl..." She blinked, unsure whether to go on. Allie tilted her head to the side. She knew the exact conversation Bonnie was talking about. "We got married because of his...financial reputation."

Allie widened her eyes. "Mom, you don't have to go..." She didn't want to hear it, whatever it was.

"Well, I suppose," Bonnie went on, ignoring Allie completely. "I mean, I guess they were right. I do love him, of course I do. Every marriage needs a foundation of love, or even at least a major fondness. You know that, don't you?" She looked at Allie, deadly-serious look spread over her face. Allie nodded, not knowing where her mother was heading with this particular conversation.

"Yeah, uh, I-I think it's a very important thing, Mom." Never mind the fact that, for the past week or so, you've been in two minds as to whether your fiancé was cheating on you.

"But another good thing about marriage is security. Financial _and_ emotional." Bonnie slapped her hand against the wheel. Allie jumped, now getting very nervous. To crown it off, she was definitely running late for work. "Tell me, how _does_ Gregory support you?"

Allie opened her mouth and paused. "Financially?"

Bonnie rolled her eyes. "_Emotionally_, Allie."

"Oh, I see. Well..." What kind of a question was that? Truly quite rude, Allie decided. "He supports me perfectly well, Mom. He's kind, loving...loyal." Thankfully, Allie's phone rang before she could say any more. She quickly picked it up. "Hello, this is Allie."

"**Allie, you have got to come and see me! I have something **_**brilliant**_** that you have to see."**

Allie creased her brows. "Uh, Archie?" Why was he calling? "What is it?"

"**It's huge! Get here quick."** And then he clicked off. Allie wrinkled her nose. How weird. Archie and her had never had too many dealings, certainly not of the social type. She shrugged and turned back to Bonnie. Why was it taking so long to get back to the lab?

"Uh, did you take a shortcut, or...?"

Bonnie shook her head, 'no'. "Anyway, you were saying how he supports you?"

There obviously wasn't any way of letting this subject go very far. "Mom, what is this about? Has something happened? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I was just reading yesterday, and I stumbled across this article...anyway, I'm worried about how Greg Sanders will treat you once you're married."

Allie felt her shoulders shrink down a little. To be honest, she had no clue. She was working purely on how much she loved Greg. He was, too. "He'll treat me exactly the same way he treats me now."

"Which is how?"

Drop it. Drop it _now_. "Great, like I just said."

"You're being cagey."

Could this week get any worse? "No, I'm not! Look, he-he is perfect, Mom. He's sweet, nice. I love him. Surely that counts for something."

Bonnie laughed, feeling a tad bitter about Allie's words. "Love fades, Allison."

Allie sat there, agape. There was no possible way that these words were coming from her mother. Something definitely happened with Carl. Just as she was about to complain, they pulled off at the lab. "Uh, thanks for your help, Mom...a-and the advice. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" Allie pushed open the door and got out as quickly as possible. She never even let Bonnie get a word in edgeways.

That was the weirdest experience Allie had ever had.

Allie, still reeling from the encounter with Bonnie, walked into the lab to find Archie grinning and tapping his hands against the desk. Hodges looked up from a scope, truly annoyed. Allie put her lab-coat on and smiled. She folded her arms and stood right beside Hodges, eyeing Archie curiously.

"Say, Hodges...what kind of miraculous discovery did the, uh, Cheshire Cat over here make?"

Hodges scoffed. "One that'll save all of humanity. Just -please- go and take him with you. He's been tapping since forever and a week. Driving me crazy."

Archie took a hold of Allie's arm and guided her into his 'room'. She yawned and sat down. She was intrigued, but also quite nervous. "Okay." Archie inhaled sharply. "You will not believe me if I told you, so here it is." He pointed to the huge TV on the wall and pressed a button on his remote. Allie sat back and turned to it, not at all shocked by what she saw.

**Flashback...**

_Greg walked into the break room ahead of Ashley. He was getting quite fed-up of her constant, stupid, mindless chatter. At least with Allie, there was proper conversation about real things they were interested in. This was all make-up, clothes, movies and friends of Ashley's that he hadn't - and, frankly, didn't want really want to - had any dealings with. He stopped at the coffee-machine and widened his eyes, trying to rid her voice from his head, maybe somehow block her out. No good. _

"_So, I said to Sandy, 'Look, you'll never get anywhere doing it like that, just pull it up, and then to the left'-" Ashley was behind Greg, shaking her head frantically at her nails. Her nails were her hobby. Scratch that- her nails were her life. _

"_Fascinating." Sarcasm covered Greg's words, but Ashley paid no heed to it. She folded her arms, tapping her nails against her arm. _

"_What's up, Greg?" _

_Greg half-heartedly smiled. "Nothing. Did you, uh, get Catherine's results to her? She likes them the moment they come in."_

_Ashley scoffed. "Chill. I'll get round to it." _

_Greg frowned, shaking his head. "Ashley, you know, you really should take this job seriously. It's not just for a week or two - it's a career." As he had a sip of coffee, he was starting to wonder why anyone employed her. _

_Ashley adopted a shocked expression. Mockingly, of course. Everything she did was a joke. She took two steps toward Greg, eyebrows raised. She flicked a strand of long, blonde hair out of her eyes. Greg took a step backward, but behind him was the coffee-machine, so any other steps backwards would involve pain that he wasn't prepared to take. "Greg...you need to loosen up a little. Why don't I help you?" She placed her arms around his neck and pulled him towards her. _

_He never meant to move, but she actually had a lot of force for such a short girl. He pushed his head backwards, trying to put off the inevitable. He thought about Allie, and how great and nice she really was. Ashley was nothing but an opportunist to Greg. In her mind, though, she thought she was doing well keeping her hands off Greg for so long. No on else in the lab interested her. But there was something about Greg...she wondered how nice he'd be without Allie. And then she pressed her lips up against him, which only made Greg feel worse. He wasn't feeling passion and he wasn't feeling any sort of happiness or greatness, just disgust. He pulled back right after their lips made even the smallest trace of contact. The 'kiss' lasted, what, half a second? Maybe a whole second, but he still didn't feel right about it. He wanted to march up to Allie, pull her off the ground and kiss her, furtively. He heard a large clang outside, and turned to see Allie storming into her lab. _

_Oh, no._

**Third Person POV**

She sat there, gnawing on her lip, watching Archie's film. She knew something like that would've happened. Considering she walked away too quickly to see anything that _really_ went on. Poor Greg, it was actually quite obvious that he didn't want to be anywhere near her. Again, though, that might have been her pride talking. She looked up at Archie, now actually feeling relieved, and a lot happier. She knew it, but with all these random people telling her not to trust Greg... she smiled. And so did Archie. "You knew all along, didn't you, Al?"

She shrugged. Beat it out of her, why don't you, Arch!? "I was jealous. I knew he would never have cheated, but still! She doesn't have a right to come in here-"

"Hey, I know! Calm down. Go and chat to Greg."

"Hold on!" Allie held her hands up, very confused. "How did you get that tape? Are we under surveillance or something?"

Archie smiled and nodded. "Yep. Victor put it in there to keep an eye on a few of our staff. Anyway, go!" He waved her off into the corridor, where she just stood blankly for a few moments. She fixed her hair, noticing Greg, eyebrows raised, sitting in the lab reading through some magazine or another. Allie swallowed, taking a few brave steps forward. She couldn't believe she had been so stupid, torturing Greg like that. She opened the door of the lab, clearing her throat and thinking on what to say, and was greeted by Marilyn Manson. Greg glanced up momentarily, only muttering a quick 'hey' which Allie never heard. Allie sighed and sat down. She knew she should be working, but, _again_, surely Grissom wouldn't mind too much.

"Hey, Greg." She smiled, feeling a momentary flutter in her stomach. Greg put his magazine down and sat up straight. He could feel a sense of nerves in the room, unsure whether they were his or Allie's. "So..." Allie raised her eyebrows, keeping a steady eye on Greg. "Uh, did you see Archie yet?"

Greg frowned, shaking his head a little. "No...why?"

Allie shrugged and moved closer to Greg. He was curious as to whether he should back up a bit, give her more space. But he never did. "Well, let's just say...he confirmed my fears."

Thoughts exploded in Greg's mind. Bad ones, too. He was worried if she still thought he was having an affair. He swallowed, feeling his heart in his head. "Uh...okay." Smart, Sanders. Smart and incredibly witty. "Which ones are they?"

Allie blinked, looking up at the ceiling. "The ones that you didn't even look at Ashley, let alone _kiss_ her." Greg opened his mouth to speak, but he was too shocked for words. Allie smiled faintly. "I'm so, amazingly, _uberly_ sorry for not talking to you. You know, I-it was a spur of the moment thing. Besides, everybody was telling me not to trust you, ah - he's only human..." She rambled, now speaking to herself more than anything else. "A-and you would have suspected me, too, so...I'm sorry!" She felt stupid, and she felt guilty. Greg would probably never see her the same way again. He'd probably think she was a bitch, or a harpy. Or _paranoid_.

In Greg's mind, he was extremely relieved and very happy. Of course he would never think differently of her. The girl was amazing. Greg bounded off his chair and almost jumped on her. He pulled her up and hugged her, tightly. Allie grinned, hoping she'd said enough. In her mind, she would never say enough. Greg thought she said it perfectly fine. "Man, I thought you'd never talk to me again!"

Allie laughed. "Me neither, Greg."

He pulled back, examined her for a second and then pulled her back into a hug.

Thank God they were on their way back to happiness and normality.

Or were they?

//–//–//–////–//–//–////–//–//–////–//–//–////–//–//–////–//–//–////–//–//–////–//–//–////–//–//–//

**A/N: Hi!**

**Well, now that they're mostly back to normal - don't worry, they still have to go on their 'drive' -, I have another plot bunny on the way. A major one. A big, gnarly, evil, maniacal myriad/twister of emotions. One that will possibly oversee the downfall of Ashley Kelly. Hurrah! LOL. **

**Anyway, thanks again to all my reviewers: Michelle, LOL! Your review cracked me up **_**majorly**_

**Please R&R, hope you guys all enjoyed this chapter. Took me a few days to write, but...**

**Have a fantastic rest of the day - or two! -,**

**JauntyChick**

**XOX**


	20. Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

After several hours of laborious lab work, Allie and Greg were nearing the end of their shift. Ashley had taken the day off, due to personal reasons. Everyone had noticed the distinct shift in mood between both Allie and Greg. Allie was bobbing her head along to music and Greg was talking to people again. Nick and Warrick were relieved, as was Hodges. He was seriously getting annoyed with Greg. The other great thing was that _everyone_ in the lab had discovered that Greg _didn't_, in fact, kiss Ashley, but that the whole thing was _her_ fault. Greg and Allie sauntered into the break room to find Sara, Catherine and Warrick discussing some case or another. It involved a dwarf, a bloodstain and a red fibre found on the vic.

"So, I guess you two have, uh, kissed and made up." Sara smirked, gripping her coffee mug. Allie smiled and looked up from the table. Greg decided he needed Blue Hawaiian coffee before they went on their drive.

"Yeah, something like that." Allie folded her arms and put her feet up on the table. "You know, everybody I met told me - _repeatedly_! - not to trust Greg. I knew all along, though. He would never cheat on me."

Warrick scoffed. "Yeah, I bet you'd be one to cut off the cojones and glue 'em to him."

Everyone laughed, except Greg. He didn't find the idea of waking up to find his privates attached to his forehead in the _least_ bit funny. "Relax, Greg. We were kidding." Catherine touched his arm, reassuringly. "But, if I was you..." She leant up and whispered. "I'd keep my gun in my holster."

Greg swallowed, getting quite jumpy about the whole conversation. He took three massive gulps of the coffee and handed Allie the rest of it. "Believe me, I wouldn't do that, would I, Al?"

Allie shook her head, got up and joined Greg. "Nope. I've got way too much of hold on him, apparently."

Sara frowned, skeptically. "He told you this?" No one had ever told _her_ that.

Allie nodded. "Sure. He's a very sensitive guy, Sara. More so than _anyone_ would have thought." Greg groaned, feeling himself getting a bit embarrassed. Allie grinned and continued. "And he's very good with kids-"

"Alright, we have to go." Greg grabbed Allie by the waist and started walking her to the door, grinning sheepishly. These were things he hadn't told _anyone_ else in the lab, _purposely_. "Things to do, places to see..." He stopped, turning round to the three CSIs and then back at Allie. "Making up to do."

Allie shook her head and laughed. "Mm. Maybe in your dreams, Sanders."

Catherine, Warrick and Sara chuckled and then said their goodbyes. They were only thankful that the worst was over them.

_Almost_.

It was a dark evening in Las Vegas, with only the moon lighting up the windows of Greg's car. It was colder, too, than it generally was. Allie wasn't best fond of the cold, but it was much superior to a heatwave. _Those_ were not pleasant. Greg was in control of the driving, while Allie sat idly by. He was messing around with the CDs from the box in the backseat of his car. He sighed, shaking his head at every CD that came out next. Allie knew there was no point in telling him to sit back and relax, because until he had that one, solitary CD - there was _no_ pulling Gregory Sanders out of his 'zone'. She twiddled her thumbs together and watched out of her window. Ashley hadn't crossed her mind all day, and she was intent on focusing to get the relationship back together properly. Obviously, if they were bantering on after the 'ordeal', they were strong and tight-knit. But Allie wanted to make sure. She examined Nana Olaf's ring, now one of her favourite pastimes, and smiled to herself. She didn't want to imagine life without Greg, because she knew she wouldn't enjoy it half as much. Sure, when she was younger, she was definitely happy-go-lucky. But with Greg...everything was magnified by the ten-fold. Granted, she worried constantly about him being in the field, but it was always even better when he came home safe and sound. Plus, he usually checked in with her at the lab whenever he could. Meanwhile, he was frantically checking through the CD collection. He knew he put it in there yesterday...stupid box...all mixed up...too many CDs...must throw some away... He sighed and scratched the side of his face, momentarily. He looked up at Allie and smiled, then got back to rifling. He was so incredibly relieved about Allie's lack of hostility toward him. It was as if nothing had ever happened. He certainly didn't feel like it had, anyway. He would have preferred if Ashley never came near them again, but that wasn't going to happen. He sighed, pulling out another five CDs and checking through them. He stopped, gasped and looked up at Allie. She gave him a cute, hopeful smile. "That the right one?" She asked. Greg raised his eyebrow and grinned.

"Oh, yeah. This is the absolute _bomb_, Allie." He pushed his eyes up Heavenward and held out his hands, disbelievingly.

Allie nodded as Greg put the box back into the backseat. He opened the CD case, gently pulled out said round musical disc and then pushed it into the CD player. "The bomb, huh? Do I know it?"

Greg shrugged. "You should. Used to play it in the lab. Played it on your first day. I was very impressed 'cause you knew all the words."

Allie cottoned on quickly. She knew _exactly_ what CD it was. A Foo Fighters mix tape that Greg had taken it upon himself to make. Took his three days, he said. "And I wasn't afraid to sing."

Greg plugged himself into the seat-belt and turned to her. "_That_ also impressed me." He switched on the ignition and reversed out of the lab car park. They listened to the first few tracks, which brought them out to enough time so as Greg could start driving into the desert. He skipped past track three. One of his favourites, which roused Allie's curiosity. "So...we have to talk?"

Allie furrowed her brows, still checking out the scenery. It was getting nicer as they went on. "Do we? Who told you that?"

Greg shrugged again. "I thought you wanted to."

"Mm...not really. I guess I could yell at you a little to try and cover up my guilt...or I could grovel and tell you how utterly, amazingly _stupid_ I feel. I should've talked to you. I was wrong and I'm sorry." She sighed, then smiled. "Your turn." With that, she looked at Greg, checking _him_ out this time.

Greg grinned. "Uh, you're forgiven." Allie nodded, not able to shake the idiotic feeling that was hidden away at the back of her mind. "You know...Papa Olaf bought my Grandma a carpet and a bottle of perfume once, _way_ back when I was a kid. She accused him of cheating."

Allie blinked. "And what did he do?"

"He, uh, denied it. Vehemently, in fact." Greg grinned. "But...then Nana confronted the lady she suspected of cheating with Papa Olaf. She declared that, while she was very fond of Olaf, she never cheated. But she told her that he might be cheating with her sister." He turned a left, now driving them through a random dirt road. "So...Nana ended up listening to everyone but Olaf. In the end, she gave up and forgot all about it. He didn't cheat, though. The other woman was disgusted whenever the subject was mentioned. She was a prude. But the people that told her not to trust Papa Olaf all had ulterior motives. See, Liz - the sister of the original girl - was into corrupt dealings. She stole some money from all the people. A conwoman. They all wanted her nailed for something that would stick to her for life." He cleared his throat. "Anyway, the moral of the story is, don't trust the people that tell you not to trust your husband." Greg remembered the situation well. He especially remembered the comical arguing that went on between the two. It wasn't actually like arguing, but more like banter.

Allie looked down at her hand. "Or your fiancé."

Greg glanced over and smiled. "As I said - you're forgiven."

She leant back and clasped her feet together. This car was too small for her, so she quickly put her legs back up and shook her head. "You know what, though? I wasn't angry at _you_. Not once through the whole thing, did I feel bad towards you."

Greg rolled his window down a little. "Then why didn't you talk to me?"

Allie half-smiled, feebly. "I didn't want to get dumped. I was a little worried in case you just..." She shrugged, trailing off. "Got bored of me."

Greg smiled at the notion. She was paranoid, and a major worrier. But she was cute and fun. And she was his. "Nah, not for a while, anyway." He hoped she knew that he was joking. They chatted comfortably for another while, and Greg continuously flicked past some of the songs, much to Allie's annoyance. "Do you remember last year, when you decided we were going camping?"

She nodded. "But of course. Frank and Dylan gatecrashed it. I hadn't had a day off in two weeks, and they gatecrashed." She shook her head, smirking. "You fell on your ass, I seem to remember. Oh, I laughed." Allie giggled, somehow getting the image back in the front of her mind. Greg, however, was less than impressed.

"If it was you, you wouldn't be laughing right now." He remembered the bruise on his ass that lasted two weeks. Allie smirked, lightly chuckling.

"True, Sanders. Very true. Anyway, poor Frank. He got a rash on his side." Suddenly, the car came to a halt and Greg put it in gear. Allie raised her eyebrows.

"Why did we stop?"

"Because. We're here." Greg said, simply. Allie had a look about. The night that was in it was definitely making the scenery. They were in the desert, and there was a lot of sandy stuff around. A few rocks...but the moon was gorgeous. They could be in the middle of nowhere with absolutely no scenery and it would still look gorgeous. If it had this moon, of course. The sky was an odd mix of dark and light blue, with some random pink bits inserted here and there. There were some very bright stars, too. Greg smiled at Allie and left the car. Allie shook her head, not knowing what Greg was planning. She walked out to the trunk, where Greg was rifling through some blankets and whatnot. "Could you hold this for me, please?" Greg handed her a large, stripy duvet, which she took.

"What are we doing, exactly?" She asked, innocently enough.

Greg bit his lower lip - a trait he had taken from Allie - and shrugged. "Stuff. And things."

Allie frowned. Why was he being so evasive? Still, she couldn't help but keep an eye on him, watching his every move. She had missed chatting to him, like they did in the car. Greg, at least, was good conversation if nothing else. He took out a portable radio and then bounded over to the driver's seat, where he quickly took out the CD and handed it to Allie. "We ready?"

He nodded, and then they walked over about two foot away from the car. "You know, I always imagined you as a kind of high-maintenance girlfriend."

Allie grinned. "And? Am I?"

Greg smirked. "Nope. Not really. I mean...I guess you're quite good. I used to know a guy whose girlfriend made him go on a diet with her. He wasn't allowed chocolate, chicken or barbecue sauce."

She bit her lip. "Wow...I can't imagine taking food off you. You'd probably sit in the corner and cry for a few hours." She knew he was _very_ overprotective about his food. Woe be tide any girl that put him on a diet. Greg ignored her and then stopped, taking the duvet off Allie and putting it on the ground. She hadn't noticed, but there were now a lot of trees around them that didn't appear to be there ten minutes before. Greg put the stereo down and changed the batteries. Allie wondered why there was so much secrecy and why he was so quiet. He wasn't generally like this. "Are you mad at me?" Shot in the dark, but she had to know.

Greg grinned. No way was he in the least bit mad at her. "No. Course not." He stopped and stood up right next to her. He put a hand on her waist and used his other hand to mess her hair up slightly. She smiled. He was still smoothing out the duvets and blankets and stuff. He then turned his hand to the stereo, placing the Foo Fighters back in. He came back over to Allie - about six inches away from her - and backed her up against the car. She gasped and bit her lower lip. What came over him, she'll never know. But she liked it. He leant down and kissed her, hands on her hips. She cautiously took her hands and placed them on his neck, only to be stopped when he took her hand and moved her onto the blanket. She lay down and pulled Greg along with her. 'Walking After You' came on the stereo, with it's gentle tune and soft, relaxed vocals.

'_**Tonight I'm tangled in my blanket of clouds...dreaming aloud. Things just won't do without you...matter of fact. Oh-oh-whoa-oh, I'm on your back. I'm on your back."**_

Greg took Allie's jacket off and kissed her again, gently. Her heart fluttered, and she felt a wave of shivers down her back. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. He traced his hands along her sides, still kissing her gently. She pulled back and took her sweater off, leaving her with just a tee shirt. Greg swallowed, getting a quick nod from Allie, and then started along her collarbone. Suddenly, the music deepened, getting ever serious.

'_**If you'd except surrender, give up some more...weren't you adored? I cannot be without you - matter of fact. Oh-oh-whoa-oh, I'm on your back... If you walk out on me, I'm walking after you. If you walk out on me, I'm walking after...you."**_

Allie rolled Greg over, onto his back, and immediately took over the reins. She pushed his shirt up, now feeling incredibly warm and cosy. _Very_ fluffy. Greg crashed his mouth against hers, running his hands through her hair. Allie took it upon herself to put her hands on the skin of his shoulders, rubbing slightly. Why was she so skillful with her palms? Couldn't she just lie there and look pretty as opposed to killing Greg slowly?

'_**Another heart is cracked...in two...I'm on your back...oh...'**_

Allie groaned, enjoying the feeling of Greg's hands over the small of her back. A weak point of hers. Then again, so was the side of _his_ neck...just where she reached up and started tracing her finger down to his collar. She frowned and changed the song. The last one was just too darned slow. 'Hey, Johnny Park!' was the next song, which suited them both perfectly. Loud, but very, _very_ good. And the guitars were amazing.

'_**Come and I'll take you under...this beautiful bruise's colours. Everything fades in time, it's true...'**_

Greg shuddered with the feel of Allie finger under his ear. God, he loved it. Allie couldn't do anything but enjoy the scent of Greg's cologne that surrounded her. A sudden breeze thrashed about around them, only just hitting her flushed cheeks.

'_**Wish that I had another...stab at the undercover...was it a change in mind, for you?'**_

Allie kicked her shoes off, something Greg had done only several moments before, and shuffled her foot along the back of his leg. He grumbled and kissed her, eagerly. She inwardly gasped as the shivery feeling returned. He couldn't believe she was causing him this much enjoyment and she felt the same way.

'_**It's impossible - I can't let it out...you'll never know - Am I selling you out?'**_

Greg adored the way Allie's hands roamed along his chest and back, gently and lovingly. She didn't mind whenever he would trace his fingers across her neck, randomly pulling her in for a kiss or five.

No doubt about it, they were perfect for each other.

'_**Your eyes still remind me of...Angels and hover above...eyes that can change from blind, to blue...'**_

Allie thought it was fabulous whenever Greg placed a few kisses along her rib-cage and the top of her stomach. Her heart would always beat that little faster and her stomach would flutter even harder whenever he did that. She felt totally helpless and vulnerable...but she didn't mind _that_.

'_**It's impossible - I can't let it out...you'll never know - am I selling you out?'**_

They were both entirely gentle with each other, completely into the kissing. Nothing could beat a good old fashioned roll about on a blanket, embracing each other frantically. Sometimes _this_ was enough for them.

Captured entirely, never once letting go. And yes, _now_ they were back to normal.

Meanwhile, not too far away, Ashley Kelly was parked, spying on Greg and Allie. Anger rose through her as she watched Greg - whom, in her mind, should have been hers - enjoying himself with _her_. If there was one person in the world that was more despicable than Allie Moore, Ashley would _love_ to meet him/her and shake their hand. Ashley didn't care how she did it, she just wanted Allie out of the way. Leaving Greg to find comfort in Ashley's arms, of course.

She would do it discretely, however. Discretely and simply. She'd give them a few more hours...but _then_ Greg was hers.

But no doubt about it: Allie Moore is **toast**.

**A/N: GASP! **

**Firstly, I'm quite impressed with my Grallie fluff. It's kind of sweet and not -too - trashy - I hope! I really loathe Ashley. I'm thinking she may have to drive herself off a cliff...**

**Anyways, thanks to my reviewers, you guys are fantastic!**

**Please R&R for me, cause I love reviews...and you know you enjoy it. Besides, the button will get lonely down there...not being pressed enough... :P**

**Have a lovely day,**

**JauntyChick**

**XOX**


	21. Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

A while later, Allie and Greg decided they would take a walk along the woods. Greg's hair was badly disheveled, but it suited him very well. Allie was fine, as if nothing had happened. But it had. This was it, they were on each other's wavelength again. Allie took a hold of Greg's hand and smiled to herself. He sidled a tad closer to her. Whatever amount of sucking up he needed to do, he'd gladly do it for Allie. He sighed, feeling massively cheerier than before. It was a brilliant evening. Thank God for Archie. Allie yawned, continuing to maintain a slower speed than she was used to."So..." Greg started, trailing off. He didn't actually know where he was going with it. He just wanted to make sure Allie wasn't in shock or anything.

"Mm?" She said, her voice getting deeper by the hour. Tiredness tended to do that to her. Greg knew they should be turning back soon, but he didn't really have the heart to tell her.

"You cold? Tired? Need a hug?"

Allie laughed, briefly. "No...I'm great, Greg. Just thinkin'."

Greg cocked his head to the side, glancing around quickly. "Oh, yeah? About what?"

"You, actually." Simple enough, right? Not actually. Allie was trying to remember her first thoughts about Greg. She was pretty sure it was loathe at first sight but...it was as if her first bad thoughts were now overruled by the great ones. Greg grinned to himself, feeling a little bit proud.

"All good things, right? About how...uh, amazing I am. My eyes twinkle and my smile is _always_ lopsidedly cute." He stopped, hoping Allie wouldn't kill him for snooping. Then again...his reading the book was _all_ her fault. It was a new book, not the old, fat red one she kept under the bed, refusing to let him see, nevermind read. Besides, he was a curious boy...curiosities need to be explored.

Allie stopped. Hold on...how did he know? Unless... "You've been reading the book, haven't you?"

Greg grinned. "You left it on my side of the bed. I didn't know it was 'the book'." Allie widened her, now very awake and alert, eyes. Great, now he probably thought she was a stalker.

"Oh, my God, Greg...oh, see _now_ I'm dumped." She shook her head.

Greg laughed. "No way, man. You think I'm cute!" A definite rarity when he was in high school. It wasn't his fault, as he looked pretty much the same then as he did now, albeit he was probably more mature now. However, he was a _major_ nerd, according to his best friends.

Allie giggled, disbelievingly. She couldn't believe he read the book. It was like a big journal of her thoughts. _Her_ thoughts about Greg. With occasional mentions of the other people in her life. Oh, no! Now he'd know about the fluttering...the shivering...the very, very unhealthy thoughts in the break room. She groaned. "How much did you read?"

"Two pages." He shrugged, then came the cheesy, teasing grin. "But then...maybe I read the whole thing."

Allie shrieked. She wasn't mad, but she _was_ embarrassed. "Gregory Sanders! I can't believe you...y-you - that's a secret! You were _never _supposed to read that! Seriously...it's a diary! A private one...Greg..." She was quite hysterical by this stage.

"Relax!" Greg placed his hand on her arm. "Jeez, I only read three pages-" Which was true. Plus, he enjoyed it. Allie was good with her words. She put a _lot_ of feeling into them. It was in diary format, with great descriptions. Nobody spoke, however, but it was still great.

"How do I know you're not lying? You told me it was two a minute ago." She folded her arms.

Greg put an arm around her. "I didn't want to invade your privacy. I only read when I was in hospital. Purple, I was."

Allie smiled. "You _were_ purple."

"Is it a shrine?" He fought back another grin.

"No! I mean...it _is_ a diary. I just...put in whatever thoughts I happened to be thinking about a particular situation. In that case, I was devastated. And, no...it isn't _always_ about you. Just...sometimes." She shrugged, and they had already continued walking.

Greg cleared his throat. "I lost my twinkle, huh?"

Allie blushed, furiously. "Ye-well, you do have one, you know."

"And I smile...'_lopsidedly_'?" He asked, looking curious. Allie nodded.

"Yeah, your mouth kinda goes off to the one...hold up, _why_ did I get roped into explaining my thoughts and observations to _you_? You're the one who snooped." Allie looked away, purely to grin. "Besides...I might like a description of myself. Greg-style."

Greg laughed, putting his head back a little. How on earth would he be able to describe _Allie_? The girl was purely gorgeous. Out of this world pretty. She looked up at him, with a stare that meant business. "Oh, you're serious?" An affirmative nod. He groaned. "Allie, I can't..."

"Yes, you can. I did. Just...pluck some words out of your head." Allie waved her hand to the side, elaborately. Greg widened his eyes, immediately wracking his brain for words.

"Uh...okay...you're tall...great smile...cool scar...um..." Not sufficient, Greg. Start again. "You've got an expressive face...which I find kinda cute. Especially when you're shocked. I love your eyes...and your hair..." Too cheesy. "Should I mention the chest?" He smirked, mischievously. How emasculating his whole situation was! Allie laughed.

"If you want..." Not that she would complain or anything...

"Buxom...heaving...isn't that what you gals like to hear?" Greg glanced down at said chest. He knew exactly what she would say about them.

"Well, I wouldn't call these 'heaving', but..." Yeah, he had it down to a T.

"Nonsense! They're fine." Better than fine, he thought to himself. "Uh, curvy - but not fat! - and incredibly nice in a dress." He stopped, purely to examine her. Her head was getting a bit big, and any time soon she'd have to come back down to earth. "Your legs...ohh!" Greg smiled, letting his eyes roam up to the sky, almost in awe. Allie giggled. That boy was nuts. "Amazing." He winked, pointing at her slightly. "You're adorable."

Allie blinked. Jeez, she could nearly _cry_ with happiness. "Not as adorable as you." God, what a ham! "Anyway, back to the, uh, normal stuff...we should head off back to the car."

Greg nodded, still checking Allie out. There was obviously still a ton of stuff he had to learn about her. In time, of course. "Probably." He stopped her, put his hand on her back and turned her around, facing to the way of the car. "Go forth."

"You know what? I kinda missed Nick living with us the other day. When we were fighting, you know? It was too quiet in the house."

Greg nodded. "You were unnatural."

"Touche." Allie retorted. He was noisier than her. "Anyway, I've decided we'll get a cat. I'll side with him, and vice versa."

Greg smiled. "Fine. I'll get a snake."

Allie shrugged. "I have no problems with snakes. Some of them are quite cute." In a venomous, evil sort of way that Allie wasn't fond of. "Naked mole rats!"

Greg furrowed his brows. Where did that come from? "What?"

"Have you ever seen them? They're cute. Kinda like a mini-walrus. Big teeth, short, downy fluff? _Very_ adorable, Greg." Allie had always wanted one, just for fun, really. However, not a practical idea for a pet.

"No, but I have seen the star-nosed ones." Also, very adorable. Kind of like mice, with fingers on the end of their noses, if that makes any sense. "Anyway, my snake could kick your rat's ass."

"_Mole _rat." Allie countered, pondering whether she should have mentioned the naked part. Although, seeing as it was Greg, it would probably open up a whole other can of beans. A while later - with even more random conversations than the mole-rat/snake one - they arrived at the car. Greg opened the door for her and kissed her on the cheek. She giggled to herself and sat in, turning the radio on. Greg had dutifully returned the Foo Fighters to the CD player. He had a severe problem with people messing with his and Allie's CD collection. She checked herself over in the mirror. She wanted something... she stared at Greg. He turned round from fidgeting with his door and jumped back slightly. He furrowed his brows. He knew that look. She sighed, eyeing him up as if she desperately wanted something she couldn't have. "Gregory...I think you know what I need."

Greg arched an eyebrow, trying to ignore the charmingly flirtatious tone of Allie's voice. "What's wrong with this CD?"

Allie shrugged. Really there wasn't...she just _needed_ the other one. "Nothing. Look, I'll go and get it if you want...but...a girl, shuffling around in her boyfriend's boot...at night...dark, dark night...in the woods..." Greg groaned and opened the door. She knew it was probably wrong to exploit Greg like that, but secretly he didn't mind much. She turned over a few songs. 'Generator'. Possibly one of the best songs ever. She adored the funky, weird music at the beginning of it. And the vocals! Oh! She watched as Greg came back into the car and shook his head, grinning wildly at her. Suddenly, she had a weird feeling. Like a massive flutter, but her hand started shaking. Her eye twitched a little, too. She cleared her throat, wondering why she felt so odd and shivery. She was probably just cold. "Thanks, Greg."

He tutted, teasingly. "The things I do for you..." Out came the Foo Fighters and in went Fall Out Boy, 'From Under the Cork Tree'. Unbeknownst to himself, Greg had learned it all by heart. Considering the amount of times Allie had it on in the lab, it really wasn't surprising. "Happy now?" He sighed and looked back at her.

Allie grinned. "Undeniably."

Greg shook his head, unable to wipe the stupid grin off his face. This girl was seriously playing tricks with his macho-ego. Not that he ever really had one, but he liked to think he did. They remained in a comfortable silence for a few moments until track number two came on. Allie took it upon herself to turn it up to twenty, and start singing really loudly. Greg rolled his eyes, although he had often thought Allie was a waste of a great singer.

'_**You only hold me up like this, cause you don't know who I really am-"**_

"Sing it, Sanders!" She really wasn't best fond of singing by herself. It made her feel, well, stupid, really. Besides, Greg's voice wasn't _that_ bad.

"_**Sometimes I just want to know what it's like to be you...We're making out inside crashed cars, slipping through all the memories... I used to waste my time dreaming of being alive, now I only waste it dreaming of you...Turn off the lights, and turn off the shyness, cause all of the moves make up for the silence and oh- the way your make up stains my pillow case, like I'll never be the same..." **_

Allie took a breath and smiled. "You know, this is definitely the best song ever." The best to sing to, anyway.

Greg rolled his eyes. "You say that about every song. One second it's Relient K, then it's The Click Five."

"Yeah, so?" She smiled, eyes sparkling with amusement. Greg swallowed and turned off onto another dirt road. It wasn't the way home, but Allie never protested. One of Greg's favourite things about Allie was the fact that she was so canorous. Musically intelligent, she called herself. Although, she had a tendency to brand some completely awful songs, 'fantastic'.

"Ah, nevermind." And that's when it happened. They chatted for another few minutes about possible new CD investments, when, as Greg stopped the car for a few seconds, another car came out of nowhere and crashed right into them, sending them scooting off into a new set of woods, tumbling over onto it's roof a few times and then back onto it's wheels. A window smashed, a door swung off it's hinges and the other dented badly, bones broken, cuts and gashes and then there was Allie and Greg, lying unconscious in a heap of blood and pain.

And neither of them noticed the other car.

**A/N: Aloha!**

**Wow! I thoroughly enjoyed this chapter...even with the shockingly-bad fluff at the start. Awful! Anyway, thanks to all my reviewers, you guys are fantastical! Oh, poor Grallie. I actually feel awful for crashing them. I suppose ya'll know who the other car was...but I may have to warn you...character death is possible...and it will **_**not**_** be Ashley... :O**

**Thanks for the reviews, I can't stress it enough - they MAKE my life! **

**Have a great rest of the day,**

**JauntyChick**

**XOX**


	22. Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty One

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It was a cold night in Vegas, with the stars shining a little less brightly than they usually did. Waking up two days after the crash, Greg tried his very best to sit up in the hospital bed, that smelt a lot like the lab. It was familiar, at the very least. Not like the usual stench of disinfectant. He swallowed and opened his eyes. This was the first time he had done this in a day and a half, after being carted into the ambulance, he asked how Allie was. Why no one responded was beyond him. He noticed it was a room he was in, not out in public like he had always been in hospital. The unbelievable pain in his arm was now like a stabbing pain. The TV was on, but no one was with him. He looked to his side and pressed the button for the nurse to come in. And, after waiting a few minutes, a short redhead came storming in, concerned.

"Mr. Sanders? How do you feel?"

Like ass in a bucket, thanks. "Where's Allie?"

The nurse smiled, politely. "She's fine now, Sir...are you in any pain?"

Well, that's a given! "Only a little. Can I see her?"

Nurse-Girl shook her head. "Not quite yet. The doctor is in with her at the minute. Tell you what, once he's done with her, I'll send him to you, okay?" She smiled again, sympathetically and patted him on the other arm. He looked down and saw that his arm was in a cast, which would definitely explain the pain. God, what a feeling. The nurse left, leaving Greg worried and just a smidgen fed up. Why nothing ever went right for them was, again, _beyond _him.

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Allie groaned as the doctor left the room. Her shoulder had been dislocated and she had a massive wound over her collarbone, but also one directly behind it on her back. But the doctor assured her she'd be fine. She knew she wouldn't be, though. Not for a while, anyway. The utter trauma of having a person pull your arm out and then back in was enough to make her cry for three days straight, although she seemed to be holding it together pretty well. Apart from...she was entirely consumed by her worry for Greg. What's worse, the stupid medical staff wouldn't even give her a hint as to how he was. She sat back, feeling her entire body weak with pain. Her bones were sore, but she hadn't broken anything. She looked to her side, staring sadly at the empty chair next to her. The room was so large, and so miserable. Of course, Allie remembered the crash. She remembered her head banging against the glass and she remembered latching onto Greg's arm...after that, though, everything went a little hazy. Suddenly, her door opened, giving her feelings of hope and slight inspiration, and Doctor Pendanski came in. He was her usual doctor, and she hadn't any complaints about him...she just wished it was Greg that emerged.

"Allie, how are you feeling?" This was, of course, the first time he had seen her in six months or so. She wasn't a fan of hospitals or clinics.

Allie smiled, weakly. There was a spectacular pain on her cheek, which she had only just come to discover. "Uh, well...kind of...awful, actually. Could you tell me how Greg is? No one else will..." She trailed off, sighing.

John Pendanski sat down on the chair beside her bed. He scratched a small area of skin next to his eyebrow, with a sort of half smile/half frown. "Greg's doing okay. He woke up a while ago, and Doctor Martin's in with him. He has a broken arm and he's probably in a lot of pain, as I imagine you'll be. Your bones hurt?"

Allie nodded, grimly. "Very much so."

John held his head in his hand and frowned. An out-and-out frown this time, with not even a trace of a smile. "I had a crash once, when I was fifteen. Broke my arm, my leg and I dislocated my shoulder. But...the thing is...I never got ran off the road, Allie."

Allie frowned. "Ashley Kelly?" Those were starting to be the two worst, most despicable words in the English language.

John nodded. "She's got a broken leg, and a few broken ribs...she's in quite a serious condition. Much worse than you and Greg. She says she did it on purpose." He shifted closer, knowing he shouldn't have pried, and it really wasn't his business. But he had grown to really like Allie and Greg. They seemed like a well matched, headstrong couple. Allie gave him a small, reluctant smile just for politeness' sake. "I see."

Allie sighed. "It's pretty much my fault. I thought Greg was having an affair, but..." She shrugged, shaking her head a little. "Actually, no- I _knew_ he wasn't but..she was so clingy. Then she kissed him...we fell out..." She blinked, unsure as to whether the tears streaming from her eyes were because of the horrid, vile thoughts of Ashley and Greg or because of the stabbing pain going through her body. "Anyway, the guy at our work, he got video evidence that it was all Ashley's fault. _I_ knew it was." John nodded.

"Say no more. I understand completely."

Allie had a feeling he was just trying to soothe her worries away. "Yeah, well...when can we go home?"

The older doctor shrugged. "A couple of days. Greg needs a lot of supervision, though. Neither of you can go back to work for a while. Go home, rest...talk to each other."

Allie grinned. "Since when did you become my shrink?"

John laughed. He enjoyed working with these types of people...terminal patients weren't something he liked. Generally, he managed to shirk away from the really, really bad cases, recommend them to the harder, tougher doctors that could handle such things. Truth was...he was far too nice to be a doctor. "Since the moment you ruptured your appendix."

Allie looked down at her hand. She was getting tired, and was desperately in need of painkillers. God, every time she needed them, she got them...what was going wrong here? "Any chance of some drugs, here? Seriously...everywhere hurts."

Pendanski stood up. "I'll see what I can do..." He got off the chair and, a few moments later, Allie's stabbing pains began to subside and descended into small, dull aches. She was beginning to feel sleepy, but still she could only think of Greg and what kind of pain _he_ was in. Suddenly, her eyes had gotten too heavy for her, and slowly she fell into yet another deep, vegetative sleep.

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Over the next day, Greg and Allie never once made contact. Whether it was because they were in too much pain, or they just couldn't face having to discuss what had happened was unknown to both of them. Neither of them could be bothered thinking about Ashley. She enraged them both too much. Greg was desperate to see Allie, and likewise. One night, after the daily dinner that consisted of hard carrots, cold peas and some sort of weird mush, Allie managed to stand the pain of getting up out of her large bed and out of her room, thankful for the shower she had taken in the morning. And also for the underwear supplied by the nurse. Doctor Pendanski had left Allie the number of Greg's room in case she wanted to see him. She walked down the hall, slowly, careful not to bump into anyone. Occasionally, she knew - she just _knew_! - that standing in a certain way, or moving would cause her pain. So, she ceased walking for a few seconds, standing there like a plank, until she was sure the pain wouldn't come. More often than not, it came anyway, but she refused to let it get her down. She halted at his door and took a deep breath, reminding herself not to cry if he looks any way in pain. She twisted the knob and pushed forward. Taking a deep breath, she entered the room, noticing Greg sitting, face contorted into a frown as he watched the TV. She closed the door, letting it make a small 'clunk' as it shut. Greg turned round and smiled. Well, he looked okay. Apart from his arm. Allie smiled and walked over to him.

"Hey, Greg...how are you feeling?" A stupid question, but one Allie felt that she had to ask. Greg looked down at his arm, amusedly.

"Guess I could be worse." He really didn't want to get into how he felt. Truth was, he felt stupid for not shouting and bawling at Ashley, stating plainly to her that he wanted her to have no part in his life. "How's the neck?"

Allie frowned momentarily, then remembered her own damages. She slapped her hand against her leg, signifying that she got the picture. "Oh, yeah- _that_. Wait 'til you see..." Without hesitation, Allie moved closer to Greg, bypassing the chair and placing herself about three inches away from him. She sat on the edge of Greg's double bed. She paused a second, wondering why the heck she never got a double bed. A mental note was made to ask him about it. With that, she leant closer to Greg - only a few inches away from his face, and pulled a little bit - but not too much - of her gown down, revealing the disgusting wound. Even Greg was majorly impressed by it.

"Nice!" He grinned. Allie looked down at his arm, resisting the urge to touch it. He smiled, tilted his head to the side and touched Allie's collarbone. She inwardly winced, but showed no sign of pain on the outside. He then trailed his finger across to her shoulder, staring off into space. Allie furrowed her brows for a split second and swallowed. Greg was busy thinking to himself about the last time they both were in the hospital. Allie and her appendectomy...then him and getting beaten up...now this pile of rubbish.

"Uh, Greg?"

He zoned back in, quickly, eyebrows raised and a slight 'O' shape on his lips. "Yeah?"

Allie laughed. "Nah, nothing...I just...does it hurt? Your arm?"

He shrugged, then moving his finger to the seam of her nightgown, fingering it playfully. "Only a little. Only when I move...or breath."

Allie laughed, although she had a newfound feeling of wanting to cry. She hated it when Greg was in pain, mostly because he got so introverted and quiet, wallowing in his own misery. "Well, hey...it'll heal in a few weeks. Pendanski said it'd be cured in two or three weeks."

Greg nodded, weakly. "Yeah, I guess."

Allie looked up at the ceiling, then down at her hand. Greg had taken his hand back, and was now also staring at it. "Oh, Greg, I'm sorry! This whole asshole-mess is my fault!" She knitted her brows together and sighed. "I'm so, incredibly sorry."

Greg smiled to himself. This girl took on way too many stressful ideas. "No, it isn't." He shook his head, voice very deep. "And you're not an asshole, Allie."

Allie looked up, confused. "I never said I was." What a statement he had just made. It's only normal that she be somewhat confused.

He smiled wider at this comment. "Yeah, but you _were_ thinking it."

She cocked her head to the side. "Mm...you know me _so_ well! By the way, how come you've got a real bed? I get one that, by the time my legs are in, is only fit for a midget." Greg laughed, sitting up a little better by this time. He motioned for Allie to go to his other side, where all the extra space was. Suspicious, Allie got up, slowly and sure not to mess up any of her bones - most specifically her hip which frequently had a stabbing pain in it when she moved -, and started to lie down next to Greg. She stopped a second, and bit her lower lip. "Is this okay? I mean, are the nurses gonna come in and physically remove me if I come in here and have a nap?"

Greg thought for a second. "Woman, you are _far_ too much of a worrier. Come over here." He shifted over a little bit and she finally managed to clamber up onto the bed and lie down at a reasonably comfy position. "Did Pendanski tell you when we're getting out?"

Allie smiled and moved just that little bit closer to him - close enough for him to put his good arm around her and for her to burrow her head into his neck. "Nope...a few days. I'll ask to get out tomorrow, though. Besides, I can't have you eating those nasty, pointy carrots they serve here. I bet they cause some sort of..._disease_." She shuddered, just thinking on what kind of weird biologicals could be found in the orange, evil bullets.

Greg smiled, tightening his grip around her. He knew she hated hospitals and he knew she'd be cold and annoyed about everything. Henceforth, he was now getting griped up about the carrots with her. She had that affect on him. "Damn biologicals. They should be halted at once, Allie."

She giggled, shaking her head at him. "You're nuts, Greg." Already, she could feel her eyes beginning to get heavier. And it was only early, 10PM early. But hospitals...dull, boring, smells-like-disinfectant hospitals weren't very inspiring. Either sleep or complain to yourself and try and hold back tears. Or, in Greg's case, maybe sit, arms folded, glaring at the walls, wanting to slap the person that put you in hospital in the first place.

Suddenly, Greg discovered he could distract himself by playing with Allie's hair, or maybe do something to annoy her. Or give her a small feeling rising in the pit of her stomach that made her want to hug him twenty times tighter than she currently was. After all, though, she didn't want to break anymore of his limbs. "Allie?" He questioned, quietly and innocently.

"Mm-hmm?" She was too tired, but she wanted to hear what he had to say.

Greg swallowed hard, resting his head atop of hers. "You know I love you, don't you?"

Allie smiled, feeling all fluffy and content. "Yeah, I do. I still love you more, though." Somehow, Greg didn't believe that it was very possible. After all, he loved her a million Norwegian cakes. Even though she said she loved him a million red M&Ms - little, cute, fun small dots that care and adore things - Greg Sanders! - with all their hearts, Norwegian cakes were slightly more robust, with more feelings and just that little bit more sensitivity that no one knew they had in them...and they had dirtier, picturing-certain-people-naked -Allie Moore!- minds than red M&Ms.

**A/N: Hello!**

**Well, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you all SO much for my reviews...they are by far the best ever reviews! And you guys are by far the best ever reviewers, so!**

**Oh, my gosh! Cloverfield - amazing film. The monster is supremely scary and big, and noisy! But uber cool! I definitely recommend it to everyone. Apart from...well, maybe not people that are easily scared. And it makes you a little bit dizzy, but just rest your head on the head-rest and it goes away! Rob, too, is a very likeable character. Jessica Lucas was good in it, too...but she kinda disappeared without a trace. But she did run the whole way through Manhattan with high-heels on, which rocked!**

**Please R&R for me, cause I really, really adore all the reviews...and the reviewers. **

**Have a great rest of the day,**

**JauntyChick**

**XOX**


	23. Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty-Two

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The next morning, Doctor Pendanski didn't really mind that Allie had strayed from her own bed and into Greg's, but the nurse wasn't very approving. Allie felt somewhat worried as to what she was thinking, but Greg talked her out of it. She sat back on the bed, gazing down at her wound. Conveniently, it was placed next to the scar she had gotten from the crazed ex-boyfriend of her mother's. She glanced over at Greg and smiled. He was busy thinking to himself about how much he hated the hospital TV. And the hospital food. Just the hospital, itself was sickening. He wanted trash food. Pop tarts, chocolate, _chips_. He folded his arms and smiled back. Allie was pretty much the only cool think about the place. Other than the informative leaflets that she kept bringing in. He would never have imagined there was so many groups for meningitis and the like. Allie went back to studying the room. She had an idea, but she wanted to put it right out of her mind. Somehow...it kept on creeping back in. She bit her lip and stood up, groaning only marginally. Her pains were _definitely_ still there and, according to Pendanski, they would more than likely remain there for another few weeks at least. She decided she could still work, though... she just wasn't going to inform the doctors. "Uh, Greg...I'm just heading back to my room for some things. You take it easy, alright?" She arched her eyebrows. "I want you in one piece for when I come back."

Greg smirked, and then stretched. "Yeah, yeah..._I'm_ not the one with a broken hip."

Allie stopped at the door, considering this. "No, Greg...you're right." She put her hands over her hips and inwardly winced. Pressure on a sore spot tended to comfort her. "You've just got a broken arm."

Greg opened his mouth, amusedly. But then he shut it. And then - miraculously! - it opened again. "Oh, snap, Moore!"

She giggled and sauntered out of the door. Finally, she had managed to get a hold of her trousers again. Hospital gowns - tucked into the trousers - weren't actually too bad. As long as there was the promise of underwear. Down the hall, she noticed a cluster of doctors - one of which being Pendanski - hanging around next to the nurses station. Quickly, Allie ducked out of the way of them so as not to be noticed heading to her current destination. She waited a few moments until they cleared and then she headed off to the room at the very end of the corridor. Priming herself, she opened it and walked in. Slowly, of course. She noticed a tiny body in the bed next to the window and almost felt a pang of remorse. Then she remembered who it was. "Hello Ashley." Allie's voice quavered a little.

Ashley turned her head around and, with a severe grimace, cleared her throat. "What do you want, Moore?"

Allie stopped at the end of her bed, unable to move. She twisted her hip slightly, hoping for less pain. Then she was free as a bird. Well, a half-dead bird. She sat in the chair next to Ashley and folded her arms. "I think you know what I want, Ashley."

Ashley sat up slightly, but had to give up. "And what's that?"

"I want an explanation. I wanna know why you tried to kill me and Greg." Simple enough, right?

Apparently, not in Ashley Kelly's sick, vile, twisted little brain. Oh, no, she had every single marginal detail plotted out. She swallowed and scoffed. "I couldn't even dare to begin."

Allie smiled pitifully to herself and shrugged. "You're gonna have to tell Brass anyway, so." She didn't know why she cared so much about Ashley's plans. She was worried about Greg, of course. But she knew Ashley would get a good few months in a cell, at _least_. "I want a condensed version."

Ashley swallowed again, her mouth unbelievably dry. Unlike Greg, or Allie, she was a lightweight with painkillers. Her broken leg was about to be amputated if the drugs didn't kick in soon. "Easy enough really...I want you to get your damn claws off Greg. No, screw that - I want _Greg_."

The words 'well, you can't have him', rang through Allie's mind but she pushed them away. "And, uh...you thought that, by doing away with the two of us..." She shrugged, not really knowing how to finish the sentence. "If _you_ can't have him, then no one can."

The one named Ashley let out a slight laugh, bitterly. "Nope...you've got it _all_ wrong." She blinked, playing with a strand of her blonde, slightly blood-stained hair. "See, I had originally planned to kill you...except-"

"It backfired and you nearly killed me, Greg and yourself." Stupid Ashley. Couldn't run a bath, let alone an evil, murderous plan to kill her colleague. In the easiest manner possible, too. "What an idiot." Allie shook her head.

Ashley frowned even deeper now. "Pot. Kettle. Black."

Allie laughed, disbelieving of the smug girl in front of her. "No, I mean..." She stood up, making sure to keep a secure grip on the chair so as she didn't fall over. "After everything...me telling you to back off...Greg telling you he wasn't interested...what made you think he'd change his mind?"

Ashley's brain was beginning to hurt with the painkillers. She giggled, eyes getting heavy with the need for sleep. "What makes _you_ think...he might even be a little bit interested in _you_?"

Allie folded her arms again, feeling a tiny bit defensive about herself. "Because. I know him...he wouldn't still be around with me if he wanted you."

The blonde shut her eyes, floating off into her own planet. "Whatever...he'll be mine, Moore. Any day now." And then came a few incoherent mumbles and she was gone, away into a deep sleep. Allie sighed and left the room.

Any day now, huh? Well, Allie would see about that.

**A/N: Hola!**

**Sorry for the long wait...I was sick! Broke my hip! Well, **_**thought**_** I had broken my hip, but I didn't. Anyway, Ashley will be gone by the next chapter...then onto the wedding! Fluff! **

**Unfortunately, only another ten or fifteen more chapters...sigh... **

**Thanks to my reviewers, as always - the bomb!**

**Please R&R and I swear - I WILL update quicker the next time!**

**Have a great day,**

**JauntyChick**

**XOX**


	24. Chapter TwentyThree

Chapter Twenty Three - -

**Filler Chapter...**very, very difficult to write!

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A week or so later, Allie and Greg got released from the hospital. Allie always knew Greg was a terrible patient, but he'd never broken anything before. They had to get Diane to drive them home, which annoyed him, but he kept quiet. Then Allie - who was in more pain than she was letting on, which Greg noticed and took note of - had to do a whole bunch of the stuff around the house which he couldn't have helped with. Then she made the dinner. Of course that was just the start of his troubles. He only got even more annoyed when she made him sit down, do nothing and then - the worst moment in his life so far - she handed him the remote. He closed his eyes, let out a sigh of frustration and looked down at his arm. No harm to Allie, because none of this was her fault, but he would rather she wasn't so nice to him. "Allie." He sounded rather annoyed, so it definitely caught Allie's attention. She sat next to him and smiled.

"Yes, Gregory?" Rather than 'honey', 'sweetie', or any other term of endearment, Allie usually opted for Gregory. _Much_ classier.

Greg blinked and squeezed his eyes shut while he was at it. How thoroughly miserable it was to have a broken limb. How perfectly amazing Allie was holding up, given the circumstances. Scratch that- how perfectly amazing _Allie_ herself was. Putting up with him and all his complaints and little sulks in the corner. She, herself, didn't actually mind. Doing anything for Greg wasn't a chore. "Could you sit down for a while, please? Just...take it easy, okay? You work too much."

Allie giggled. "Dude, I'm not doing anything. Just.._sprucing_ the place up a little bit." By sprucing, she meant severe amount of vacuuming, cleaning the floors, changing the bed-covers. "Anyway, you couldn't help me with it. I would _not_ stand for it, Greg."

Greg looked sadly down at his arm then back up to Allie's hopeful black-eyes. He was now one-hundred percent sure that they were black as opposed to very, deep brown. "Yeah, but-"

"But nothing. Shoosh." Allie sat back and put his good arm around her shoulders. "Fine, seeing as you were so nice and concerned...I'll sit down. What's on, anyway?" She picked up the remote and immediately started flicking. Greg studied her for a moment. How was a man supposed to sit perfectly still when he saw someone like Allie? In fact, how was it even possible _not_ to shift over and smother them with kisses, exactly what Greg was doing. Allie, taken aback by the forwardness, blinked before closing her eyes and then put her hand over Greg's face. He let his good hand trail down the side of her shoulder, but it wasn't much use. Only getting slightly annoyed about not being able to do anything more than that, Greg pulled back and sighed. Allie smirked. "You're entirely gorgeous when you're in a mood, Greg."

Greg only half-smirked in a response. Her attempt to cheer him up was to absolutely _no_ avail. "Thanks."

"Look, it'll heal. Anyway, be thankful you still have an appendix." She folded her arms, hoping to bribe him into a good mood. "And a spleen. Jeez, some people have ruptured spleens. At least you don't have one of those."

Greg grinned. "Yeah, I guess you're right." He picked up the random little wedding magazine from beside him. "Any thoughts on the venue?"

Allie furrowed her brows for a second. Venue for what? Oh, right...the wedding. "Oh, uh, no...we've been kinda busy, remember?" She giggled and put his arm back around her shoulder. She felt kind of cold without it. "But I guess you could, uh...I-I mean, if you wanted to, that is. You could choose it." God knows she was having enough trouble with the dresses. Well, _dress_. Greg smiled and shrugged in his usual way.

"Yeah, I guess I could. Uh, have you done anything with invitations?" He asked, innocently. Allie shook her head. Greg nodded once, slowly. "What about...uh...cars?" Another head-shake for a reply. Greg grinned. "Cake?" Allie sadly looked down at her lap and shook her head. "Anything?"

She shrugged slowly. "Bridesmaid dresses. And a date."

Greg nodded. "Well, how about a guest list...thing?"

"Well, me, you, my mom and Carl, your mom and dad, Susie, Dylan, Frank, Diane, Catherine, Nick, Hodges, Sara, Grissom...uh...my dad..." Allie thought furiously. Why did she have such a damned mental block on her wedding? Of course she wanted to get married, but not like this. Not with a fiancé that had a broken arm. Not under a could of worry about wether or not you were likely to get gunned down outside the church by a complete and utter psychopath. "But nevermind that. We'll get it done." She quickly took the magazine off him and furrowed herself in closer to him. He smiled.

"You're not a very good organizer, are you?"

Allie gasped, dramatically. "I am, too! I just, uh...I'm taking it easy with the preparations. You know, I would _not_ like to be considered a Bridezilla."

Greg nodded. He couldn't ever imagine Allie freaking out over not having the right dress. She was so cool and collected about everything. "I'm sure you won't be. Hey, how about I get my mom to give you a hand with the dress? She worked in an emporium once."

Allie grinned. "That would be great. Mom's kinda...scary. I mean, not _scary_, but she's a little bit on the over-bearing side."

Greg yawned and twisted a strand of Allie's hair around his finger. He wondered how she managed to get it so...choppy. "Mm...you know, I think I need a new hair-do. There's some dye in the bathroom..." His tone was suggestive, so Allie knew that he was insinuating for _her_ to do it. She stood up and tutted.

"Jeez, and you were the one just telling me how much I needed to relax." She grinned and ruffled his hair up a bit. She went into the bathroom, got the dye and emerged back into the sitting room a few moments later. The amount of times she had done this over the past few years...she could almost put in for a new world record. "Okay...blonde? All blonde? Are you sure about that?"

"Yeah, it's, uh, youthful-ising."

Allie giggled. "That isn't a word, you know." And they chatted easily for another hour or so, but Greg still felt like there was something strange. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on...it was Allie. She wasn't exactly like herself.

"Al, babe...what happened at the hospital?"

Allie sighed as she sat down. "What do you mean, 'what happened at the hospital'? The food sucked, and the nurses were nice. Same as the hospital always is." Absent-mindedly, Allie was busy reading through the wedding magazine before she realized what it was. She put it down and looked back at Greg. That wasn't what he meant and she knew it by the look on his face. "Oh, right..." Ashley still preyed on her mind, even though Brass was definitely on the job. "Uh, I just..." She blinked, wanting desperately for that little lump in her throat to go away. "I went to see Ashley, just...I don't know why I did, and I never said anything I didn't mean."

Greg sighed. "You could've left her alone."

Allie rolled her eyes. "No, I couldn't! Greg! If she tries something else, then what? She's tried kissing you, she tried killing me...what next? I just...I wanted to make sure she wasn't planning anything worse." There was a pause. "Which, by the way, I don't think she will be." Not if Brass could help it, anyway. Allie took a swift look at her watch. "We should get that washed off your hair now, you know. _Before_ you turn into Marilyn Monroe."

Greg grinned and stood up. Allie was an _expert_ with hair. Well, with his hair, at least. She pulled a chair over to the sink and motioned for him to sit down. The sink was low, and she remembered reading in a magazine once about the dangers of washing someone's hair over a sink. Just to be sure, however, she put a towel under his head for safety. Allie flashed him a quick smile as she retrieved the shampoo from the cabinet. She rolled up the sleeves on her sweater and sighed, hurriedly. Greg smiled broadly again when Allie had to do a double-take to make sure she wasn't going to inadvertently hurt him by crashing into his arm. "You know, I've got some red-dye...you up for it, Moore?" His tone was too flirtatious. Somehow he would _never_ lose that mischievous, flirty streak that he'd had, practically, since he was born. Allie grinned and waited for the water to heat up a little.

"What, you think I'd look good as a red-head?"

Greg nodded. Oh, yes...most definitely. "But I'd need to do something about that fringe..."

Allie gasped. "What's wrong with my fringe?" She'd cut it herself, and hadn't made too bad a job of it.

Greg shrugged. "Nothing, but it's too..." Preppy? No... "It's too much like you're trying to be good."

She smirked. "And now you're trying to say I'm bad? Jeez, thanks, Greg."

"To the bone." He arched an eyebrow and she shook her head, eyes twinkling slightly. Allie lowered his head onto the front of the sink and immediately started rinsing it. The water wasn't just hot enough, but he was hardly about to quibble. She bit her lower lip, eyebrows furrowed lightly, and she was obviously deep in concentration. She ran her hand through his now wet hair, making sure she wasn't getting anything in his eyes. That would've been all he needed, a broken arm and a sore eye.

"So...blonde, huh? If you hate it, I'm sure we could turn you back to a brunette." Allie didn't have any problems with Blonde-Greg...but there was something about Brunette-Greg that she thoroughly _adored_.

Greg smiled. "You mean if _you_ hate it."

Allie grinned. "Precisely." She put the glass that she had been using for a shower-head down and managed to get the cap off the shampoo, then taking it and squeezing a small amount onto her hand. "We should cut it, too."

"Hm?" Greg was quickly taken out of his thoughts by Allie, who was now massaging his scalp gently, but firmly. He sighed and shut his eyes again. She explained to him, in detail, exactly what kind of haircut would suit him. He really wasn't listening...but he was. Somehow, Allie's voice managed to soothe him into a state where his arm wasn't bothering him.

"Greg?" Allie chimed. She'd been speaking to him non-stop for the past four minutes. His hair was washed. And yet...he seemed to be off on another planet altogether. "Greg!?"

Now that caught his attention. He bolted upright, eyebrows raised with his wet her flailing about. "What?"

"Your hair?! It's done...well, until I dry it, obviously." Allie got a towel and proceeded to mess Greg's hair up further with it. Greg stood up and smiled.

"I thought you were gonna cut it." So she did. And _then_ she dried it. Well, she tried to dry it. While she was doing it, however, Greg somehow wrangled her against the wall and proceeded to crash his lips against hers, with a strange feeling that he really couldn't hold himself back at all. Allie was thankful she had managed to get the gel in his hair so as she could get it to stick up properly, and she just remembered about his arm in time. She pulled back and swallowed. Greg raised his eyebrows as if questioning, 'are you _nuts_?'.

"No, not with your arm in the condition it's in, Greg." She noticed him eyeing her, flirtatiously. She shook her head and laughed. "No chance."

Greg rolled his eyes and silently went over to the mirror. Allie _always_ made a better job of his hair than he did. She had it spiked, almost resembling a porcupine, and she was discreet with the blonde hair-dye. "It's nice."

Allie rolled her eyes. "What, _just_ nice? Jeez, after all that work-"

"I'm thinking we should move the wedding forward." Oh, so _that's_ what he was thinking about.

"Why would we do that? I mean, the twenty-second...it's plenty of time." She felt flustered, and a tiny bit embarrassed by the way she felt. Sure, she wanted to get married. But properly. And without all the bad luck and stigma that had attached itself to the two of them. "Anyway, you wanna wait for your arm to heal, don't you?" She flashed him a small smile again, just to reassure him.

Greg rolled his eyes. He did _not_ want to wait. Any more of this kind of stuff - 'this kind of stuff' meaning Ashley, or maybe the kid that tried to kill Greg - and they'd be dead before they got married. "Allie! That's not what I meant..." He sighed and rubbed the side of his face. He only thanked God that he hadn't broken his right arm, otherwise he wouldn't be able to do _anything_. Allie sat down again, staring down at the floor. "Humour me, Allie."

Allie shook her head. "I'm sorry, Greg. If you want, we could move it to...November the..." She shrugged, voice cracking a little. She didn't know why she felt so weird about everything, but she knew one thing; she couldn't get her mother out of her head, whatever that meant. Greg tilted his head. _Maybe_ he shouldn't have said anything. After all, it'd probably all work out well in the end. He moved over to her and cast his eyes up to the ceiling.

"You're right. We don't have to move it." Although, it would be nice. "But you know...if..._anything_..._happens_...I-I mean, to me- or to you...well, I guess-"

"Greg!" Allie widened her eyes to mammoth proportions and let her mouth stay agape for a few seconds. "What are you...why...are you okay?"

Greg nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine, but you have got to know, that if something happens, like when I'm out with Grissom, or Nick, or _anyone_, that you have my full permission just to be happy." Allie, mouth still somewhere on the floor, couldn't comprehend where this was coming from; Greg Sanders. Gregory Cedric Sanders. Unbeknownst to her, a few tears were silently pouring out of her eyes, rolling under her chin and dripping down onto her cleavage. Greg continued on, even though he himself was almost struck into the depths of despair because of his stupid arm. Of course, this situation wasn't doing much for Allie. "And I want you to know that I love you."

Allie wiped her eyes and wondered wether she should stand up. She decided against it. "Greg? I..." She gasped, and tried to steady her breath. Greg put his good arm around her, and she cursed herself for letting her stomach flutter the way it was. She absolutely couldn't just sit there and let Greg be miserable for the next two or three weeks with a broken arm. She turned round to him and pushed him onto his back. She moved herself up so as she was staring intently down at him. "Gregory Sanders, there is absolutely _nothing_ wrong with you. You're not gonna die, and I'm not gonna die. Now cheer up and stop feeling sorry for yourself." At which point, she moved closer to him and enthralled him in a kiss. Greg, whilst still feeling rather sorry for himself and also taken aback by Allie's little speech, returned the favour and wrapped his free arm around Allie's waist and pulled her onto his chest. She inched over to his right side and began to play with his hair. Very soft and very nice. "And you know what else? If you _ever_ do anything like that to em again, Sanders, I swear to God, _I_ will be the one to kill you." She really had gotten a major fright. She kissed him again, with much more eagerness and a lot more passion.

Greg smiled and nodded, before glancing down quickly at his arm. "Yeah, okay...understood."

**A/N: Hola!**

**Well, I am so, undeniably, unbelievably busy for the lack of updating for this story lately - I've been trying to write real fiction, without the aid of TV shows - even though I really, really love fanfictions, too! - so, and I had writer's block! Evil, evil writer's block! Anyways, hope it was worth the wait, cause it's quite long...but with a dash of fluff and a sprinkling of angst. Flangst rules!**

**So, any scandal with my wee reviewers? You know I love you all! **

**Please push the button, cause he's been cold for the past two weeks... :D**

**Have a great rest of the day, and I promise to get a new chapter up soon,**

**JauntyChick**

**XOX**


	25. Chapter TwentyFour

Chapter Twenty-Four

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Allie returned to her work a few days later, on a guilty conscience for taking as long as she did. Greg, however, was not happy about her going back so quickly. She was still in pain. She cold barely walk on account of her hip, and her shoulder wasn't so hot, either. However, in the interest of keeping Greg in a semi-decent mood, there were nightly trysts, involving a lot of kisses - Allie -, ravaging - Greg - and a lot of hair-tousling - Greg _and_ Allie -. It gave her slight amounts of pain, but the happiness and pleasure out-weighed that to a point where she barely noticed it. Although, she would deny it to the hilt that _she_ took any enjoyment from it. Grumble about it, no big deal and whatnot. It _was_ for Greg, after all. So Allie hobbled into the break-room and headed for the coffee-pot. Expecting her's and Greg's usual Blue Hawaiian, she was surprised to find that it had been replaced with...was that...?

"Regular coffee? Sara, what the Hell is this?" She raised her eyebrows and slammed the cup down on the counter. Sara glanced up from her '_New Criminalist_' magazine and shrugged.

"Coffee, I guess."

"But it isn't Blue Hawaiian." Allie would've thought this was obvious. "Where's the Blue Hawaiian?"

Sara gave a larger shrug this time. "Victor probably took it."

Victor Smith. The _elusive_ Victor Smith...better than Ecklie but not a _patch_ on Grissom. "Oh." Allie frowned and poured the regular coffee out. "Well, then I'd better get back to my stuff, then..."

"Oh, wait! Uh, Warrick and Nick were looking for you...something about Ashley..." Sara smiled, feebly. Allie groaned. She really didn't want to deal with anything Ashley-related. Not today.

"Ah, uh...yeah, right...well, I'm on lunch and you know it's Greg's birthday tomorrow, you know, and I have to get him something and-"

"It's tomorrow? Really?" Sara threw her magazine onto the table and stood up, frantically digging into her pockets. "Oh, my God! I totally forgot..." She rolled her eyes at herself and pulled out a few notes. "So...what are you getting him?"

Allie smiled and shrugged. "Don't know yet...probably some DVDs...CDs..." Although, she had her eyes set on something...bigger..._better_. She had seen it in a garage a few weeks ago and instantly _knew_ Greg would love it. "Anyway, gotta go. Take it easy, Sara."

"Oh, and Allie?" Sara placed the notes back in her pocket and folded her arms. "If you see Gil, tell him I need to see him. It's about..." She motioned for Allie to move closer, and when she did, she leant in closer, making sure no one heard her. "Travel arrangements."

Allie furrowed her eyebrows. "Travel arrangements?"

Sara nodded. "Check-ups."

Allie blinked and shrugged. "Sure, I'll tell him. Are you guys okay?" It had been a long time since Allie had played shrink for Grissom and Sara, and she certainly didn't intend to start again. Although...travel couldn't be bad, could it? Sara nodded again, this time with more urgency.

"Yeah, of course...see you." And then Sara flounced out, with Allie in tow. Allie quickly sauntered out of the exit before anyone noticed she was gone.

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Allie made her way to the little garage near the Strip, and dug her hands into her pockets. It was unreasonably cold in Vegas that day. She wondered what Greg was up to. Probably sitting in a chair, glaring at the TV, arm folded. She smiled lightly and entered the garage. She finally got to the front door of the place and it was obvious that they were the best. A whole bunch of very happy men and slightly-infuriated women were hanging around, generally mumbling to each other. Allie went directly up to the counter and asked for Jake. A few moments later, a tall, gangly, blonde man with a serious grin over his face.

"Hi, you must be Allie Moore. Nick told me about you. Now he said you wanted something...vintage?" He had a very high voice for a man, she noted. Apparently, though, in the world of cars, he was the bomb. Nick's words, not Allie's.

"Yes, uh...it's for my boyfriend. _Fiancé_." Allie laughed nervously and rolled her eyes at herself. "He _loves_ vintage."

Jake nodded. "Wise man, huh?" Allie smiled, by way of reply. "Alright, well...there's a few over here...Dodge Charger...a few Hummers. Uh..." Jake stopped and scratched his head. "Any idea of a budget?"

Allie shrugged. "Just...whatever's the nicest."

Jake laughed, and showed her around another few cars...none of them were really..._Greg_-ey. Sure, they would've done perfectly for _her_, but not for Greg. Eventually, she told Jake that she'd be back after doing a tiny bit of research. "Alright...but if you want the Charger, act fast. Things like that don't stay on the shelf too long."

Allie bobbed her head from side to side. "Yeah, thanks. Good to know." So she fled quickly, and ended up back at the lab. A wile later, processing copious amounts of blood for Sara, Nick and Warrick finally caught hold of her. She looked up from processing, hair lying over one shoulder, deeply concentrating on the GCMS results. "What's up with you two?"

Nick folded his arms and nodded to Warrick, who frowned and shook his head. "Allie, we need you to come down to the hospital. Ashley wants to see you."

Allie rolled her eyes to herself and put the results down. "And why would she be doing such a crazy thing as that?"

Nick interjected. "Because, she's going to jail. Eighteen months at most...good behaviour...she could be out in ten." Allie swallowed and took her gloves off. She sighed, hoping the Ashley-thing wouldn't have reared it's ugly head again. Nick started before she had a chance to respond. "If you don't want to, or you don't think you'd be up to it, we'll tell Brass to leave it alone."

"No. No." She sighed. "I'll do it. Come get me after work, though...Sara _needs_ these results." She flashed the two boys a grin and then returned to getting herself a new pair of gloves. Allie glanced back up, expecting Nick and Warrick to have fled long ago, but no such luck. She shrugged. "What? I'll do it!"

Warrick smiled. "If you're sure."

"She's got a lot of broken bones, Al. She's in bad condition." Nick unfolded his arms and put them in his pockets. Allie nodded, still flicking through results.

"Yeah, I know. I saw her." Her tone was quiet, and Warrick and Nick wondered if they heard her right.

"You saw her?" Nick raised his eyebrows. Allie nodded to herself and started running a urine sample, checking for signs of drug-use. She enjoyed the testing-for-drugs part of her work, because generally, it was a case-breaker.

"Mmm-hm. I did." Her eyebrows were furrowed, and she was too intent on the urine-sample to invest anymore into the conversation.

"And?" Nick Stokes. Royal gossip. Allie rolled her eyes again.

"She's exactly the same as she always is. Trying to, one, get one over on me and two, do Greg. Well, no way. Not a chance. If she wants him, then it'll be over my dead body."

Warrick glared at Nick and folded his arms. "Alright, we'll meet you in the break room after your shift. Take it easy, Moore."

"Yeah, see you, Al." Nick nodded and followed Warrick out the door. Allie sighed and smiled to herself. Those too were too overprotective. In a sweet way, but still..._overprotective and worriers_. She sat back in her chair and picked up a magazine.

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Allie sat back in her chair, _this_ close to the end of her shift. She was nervous, for some ungodly reason that she couldn't come to grips with. After tonight, no more Ashley. No way was that bag of evil going to ruin Allie's life, nor her relationship. She swallowed and picked up her phone. Greg's number seemed to dial itself, somehow. She put the phone to her ear and traced her finger along one of her favored microscopes. A few rings and he picked up, with a less-than-pleased tone.

"**Hello?"**

Allie smiled. "Hey, babe...what's happening?"

"**Ha!"** He scoffed. **"What's happening, indeed. Well, your crazy brother and his friend were here-"**

"Dylan and Frank?"

"**Yeah. They stole half my CD collection! And since the crash I only had half of it!"**

Allie grinned. "That's all? They stole your CD collection? Jeez, Greg...I worry for your priorities, man. Anyway, look, I was just calling to, uh..." Allie inhaled and licked her lips. "Tell you that..." She paused. Did she want to tell the truth? No. Did she have to? Not really... "I'll be late. Nick and Warrick want me to come with them for something...stupid case they need help with." She cleared her throat. "Anyway, be careful, okay? I want you in one piece when I come home, you know."

Greg sighed, audibly. **"Yeah, okay. Hey, tell them I need visitors! I miss people, Allie! I need to talk!"**

Allie giggled. "And what, I'm not good enough? Well, good day, Gregory Sanders!" She feigned shock and smiled to herself, unaware that Nick and Warrick had waltzed in behind her.

"**You know I love you, though..."** Greg, on the other end of the line, was grinning to himself, staring into the TV.

Allie broadened her smile and sat forward, bending over slightly to play with her shoes. "No...I love you more."

Greg liked this game. It was one he knew very..._very_ well. **"No, I love **_**you**_** more."**

"No way, Sanders...I love you ten times more than you could. It's something to do with the hair..."

"**The hair? Not my quirks? Man, how I love your...**_**quirks**_**."**

Allie erupted into a fit of laughter over this. "Yes, thank you, Greg. I love your, ahem, _quirks_, too." Quirks. Obvious codeword. Who knew? Nick cleared his throat, unable to take any more of the one-sided conversation. Allie turned round and groaned. "Aaw, hey, I have to go...I'll see you soon...I love you!" She half-yelled into the phone, almost deafening Greg.

"**Love you, too...now go, be gone! Vamoose!**"

"Alright! Goodbye!" Finally, she hung up and smiled to herself, emitting a sigh. She turned round to the two CSIs and continued with the up-turned lips. "Sorry about that..._Greg_." She stood up and flattened her skirt. It was a dark one, for a change, but the orange shirt out-weighed it. And the peep-toe shoes were a wonder all on their own. "We ready?"

Warrick nodded, with a small smile. "Yeah, are _you_?"

Allie nodded. "Anytime, guys. Go forth and spread the word!" She ushered Nick and Warrick out of the door, grinning all the way.

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The grins soon reverted back to nerves as she entered the hospital. Her shoes clacked along the floors to Ashley's room. Nick and Warrick were trailing behind her, making random small-talk. Thankfully, it was Doctor Pendanski that she met outside Ashley's door. She flashed him a friendly smile and folded her arms, only after shifting a bit of her hair out of her way. She needed a haircut, ASAP.

"Hey, Doctor Pendanski...how's it going?"

John Pendanski grinned from ear-to-ear. Frankly, it couldn't be better. He'd cured at _least_ ten patients in three days alone, lost none since just before Allie and Greg had come in. "Amazing, Allie! I've had a great day, and for the record- I'm glad she's getting time. Do your worst, boys." He eyed Nick and Warrick pointedly and then went back down to the nurse's station. Allie braced herself and opened the door before Nick or Warrick could talk to her. Ashley looked up at her with massive tears in her eyes. She was stick-thin, tired-looking and twenty-times rougher than she had been the first time Allie went to see her.

"Jesus..." Allie was quite glad it was a darkened room, otherwise she might've felt sorry for Ashley.

"I know, right? I'm on hunger-strike. They said they're giving me a tube." Ashley's tone conveyed just how pleased she was with all the attention. Hospitals were a great place for attention...now she could add hypochondriac to her growing list of skills.

Allie swallowed and sat in the chair next to her, feeling ten-times older since she entered the room. "Trying to kill yourself isn't gonna solve anything, Ashley." Great...now she sounded like it, too.

Ashley sat up, feeling her stomach growling away, violently. Nick and Warrick were still at the door, keeping a stealthy eye. "If I want to, I will. Always been my motto. Anyway...being dead has to be better than being in jail."

Allie sat forward, hand held out in front of her, fingers intertwined. "Good behaviour...you'll be out in ten months."

Ashley scoffed. "I'm not into 'good' behaviour, Allie. In fact, I hate it."

Allie rolled her eyes. She had, right at that moment, run out of all sympathy she might've had for Ashley. "Look, you called me here for something and now I'm here, so what is it, Ashley? I have things to do."

Ashley smiled, her skin looking pale and washed out...not it's usual extreme-tan. "I wanted to tell you...you know, before they throw me away and forget about me...I'm sorry about trying to steal Greg...but I still hate you."

Allie smiled. "And here I thought you were finally gonna turn into a human there...but I guess...I accept your apology." She didn't _want_ to sound as warm and friendly as she did, but she never could speak icily. "But I have to go. Greg's waiting on me." She stood up and folded her arms. "By the way...once you get out...I'm getting a restraining order on you."

Ashley smiled again. "Congratulations. I'd probably do the same. Goodbye, Allie." There was such finality in her tone that made Allie shiver slightly as she walked over to Warrick and Nick, deciding that was definitely the weirdest moment of her life so far.

Not half as weird as the phone call from Pendanski the next morning, explaining to her about the deceased Ashley Kelly.

**A/N: Ha! Bet none of you were expecting **_**that**_**! Aaah, fun chapter to write!**

**Thanks to all the reviewing public...you guys really do make my day!**

**Please R&R again, cause I love it when you do!**

**Have fun,**

**JauntyChick**

**XOX**


	26. Chapter TwentyFive

Chapter Twenty-Five

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Allie perched herself next to Greg in the break room. Greg was sitting, pouting slightly with his arm still enclosed in the cast, off in a world of his own. Allie - and Greg, too, moderately - was trying to hide the fact that she was a tiny bit more relieved than anybody should be over the news of a death. That and the fact that it was Greg's birthday and she knew exactly what she was getting him...although, it would take a few more days than planned. Grissom and Victor Smith had gathered the team around for a chat and a quick pep-talk. And since Allie was one of the four last people to see Ashley alive, there were bound to be questions asked. Allie had woken up about three or four hours previous, because for one, Greg had rolled over on his broken arm and for another, her phone was ringing. It was Sara, telling her about Ashley. It wasn't that she was _pleased_ about Ashley...but at least she had one less worry. God knows what other bad things she would've - and could've - done. She _poisoned Hodges_! Soon enough, Sara, Catherine, Nick and Warrick had joined them. Grissom and Victor were running late and it was probably on account of Victor's preening. Allie handed Greg a cup of Blue Hawaiian and smiled at him. He grinned in return before tilting his head to the side. It had taken him a lot longer than usual to do his hair, seeing as he only had one arm to do it with. Thank God it wasn't his right arm that he'd broken. Grissom and Victor waltzed in, frowning undeniably. Grissom closed the door behind him. Allie sat back, pulling Greg with her.

Victor cleared his throat. "I'm sure as you all know...Ashley Kelly was found dead in her hospital bed this morning. Seven-twenty-three. Overdosed on prescription pain-meds. We're pretty sure it's..._suicide_." Even saying the words were making Victor feel depressed and dirty. "Now, myself and Gilbert here...we know three of you were off to see her last night." He smiled, clasping his hands together, and sat on the arm of the sofa. "Nick, Warrick..._Allie_. Do any of you have _any_ ideas as to why she would do such a thing to herself?"

Nick folded his arms, clearing his throat a little. "Well, I got a phone call last night from, uh, Doctor John Pendanski at the hospital. He told me that Ashley wanted Allie to come and see her."

Warrick looked up and inhaled. "He said she had something to tell Allie."

Victor cocked his head to the side, forehead creased. "Now, Allison...can you tell me what she told you?"

Allie sat forward, with Greg's hand toying with her lower back. At that moment in time she would've preferred not to have a distraction, but the fluttering of her stomach wasn't _too_ annoying. She'd lived with it for two or three years, so one more moment wouldn't kill her. "Well, uh, she told me that...she was on hunger strike...I kinda guessed cause she looked awful. She said they were giving her a tube and I said that killing herself wasn't gonna fix anything. Anyway, then she told me she was sorry for..._you_ know." Allie looked down at her hand, knowing - just _knowing_ - that everyone was staring at her. "Trying to steal Greg. But she still hated me. I told her I accepted and that I had to go. Then she said goodbye to me."

Grissom flashed her a 'well done!' kind of smile and she nodded. Victor smiled, too. "Good, Allison. Now, did you have _any_ idea that she was going to do this?"

Allie shook her head. "No I actually didn't. I mean, she looked terrible...and she was pleased about it, too. But it was the way she said goodbye, though...it just..." She trailed off, not wanting to make an ass of herself in front of the team. Greg nudged her and smiled. Suddenly, the door opened and in waltzed John Pendanski. He had since lost last night's enthusiasm.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I got here as quick as I could. Bad traffic, you see. Your receptionist sent me in here..." Pendanski smiled and obeyed as Grissom motioned for him to sit down.

Grissom finally spoke, wanting to take over from Victor. Any more from that guy and he'd be out of a job. "Doctor Pendanski, we thought there were people keeping an eye on Ashley Kelly last night. Why weren't they there?"

Pendanski sighed. "Well, I told the guys to keep an eye on her, because I knew she wasn't stable, but they got a call. One of their officers got shot. Anyway, I came in this morning and I went in to check on her...and she was dead." His voice cracked a little as he spoke, and Allie felt a pang of guilt over it. None of this would've happened if she'd been strong enough to stand up to Ashley, let her know from day one who the boss was. But...she did. "And then I called you guys. I'm really sorry. I don't know how she got the pain-meds. I do know we have a nurse working for us that is...well, she's, uh, incompetent."

Grissom nodded and then they had a much quieter discussion that Allie could not for the life of her work out. The other team members had engaged themselves in conversations with each other and Allie and Greg were discussing Papa Olaf. Pendanski left suddenly and then so did Grissom and Victor. Strange behaviour, even for Grissom. Allie glanced at Sara and Catherine, who both shrugged, and then got up. "Alright, uh, if it's okay, we're gonna split now...things to do."

After saying their goodbyes, Greg and Allie headed over to a random sandwich shop. Greg wasn't his usual garrulous self, and spent much of his time glaring out at the window. "Greg, honey...you alright?"

Greg looked back at Allie, smiling as best as he could. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's nothing."

Allie stopped eating, put the sandwich down and rolled her eyes. "It obviously is something, otherwise you wouldn't have said 'it's nothing'. Go on...what is it?"

He shrugged, discarding his own sandwich. "It's just...I can't help thinking this is my fault. I mean, if I wasn't me...Ashley wouldn't have been so desperate to...you know..." Greg gave Allie a pointed glare and swallowed, returning to his window for a moment. "I mean, maybe I'm the reason she killed herself."

Allie widened her eyes. Over the past two or three weeks, Greg had become so..._philosophical_. Not serious, because that wasn't a word in his vocabulary. But he'd been given a better outlook on life...don't waste it! Allie put her hand out and touched Greg's hand. "Greg, babe...she didn't kill herself because of you. I'm sure of it. Anyway, she wasn't happy. She'd better off like this."

Greg nodded. He knew Allie was right, and if the shoes were on the other feet, he'd have said the exact same thing. It was freaky how they worked. Most people outside of the relationship would have thought they had known each other their whole lives, but they just had a fantastic grasp on each other's minds. "Yeah, you're probably right." And then he resumed eating his sandwich. Because it was his birthday, he couldn't help but think old-age was starting to make him wiser. _Finally!_

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The next week, Ashley was buried. The funeral was low-key and both Allie and Greg discovered that she really hadn't any friends, only a sister and two cousins, some people from the lab. Other than that, she had no one. Allie could see now just how much of a tragic situation it was. She wondered what it would be like to have nobody and nothing, but then decided she would never want to know, or to find out. A few days after the funeral and everything was back to normal. Doctor Pendanski almost had a nervous breakdown to himself what with all of the questioning going on with his staff. His nurse had been prosecuted, suspended and most other punishments you could get from selling addictive, potentially lethal pain-killers to a patient. Most importantly, Greg was getting his cast off in a few days, and Allie was absolutely enraptured with the idea. To be honest, he was starting to get on her nerves. The first two weeks were fine, but now his arm was itchy, and stiff and for some reason, he decided he _had_ to roll over on it every single morning. Allie sighed as she sat down in front of her locker. Sara was beside her, humming some random song she had heard on the radio in the lab.

"So...are you and Greg doing anything nice this weekend?" Sara asked, just because she wanted to start up a conversation. It always seemed so easy when Allie did it, but Sara had always been a little bit awkward. But then she would remember that Allie was the biggest geek on earth. Well, _after Greg_.

Allie glanced up and smiled. "Meh, same old stuff...probably start off in bed, watching SpongeBob SquarePants, I'll make lunch, then I'll have a shower, let Greg do his own thing then sometimes I do his hair...then I'll visit Dylan and Mom, Greg usually goes to Papa Olaf's house, although, I'll have to give him a ride because of his arm and all..." Allie took a dep breath and continued on. "Then we'll both get back home, and I'll make the dinner, we'll watch a DVD, talk...then...uh...well, we just end up talking, really. Then we go to bed."

Sara grinned. "That's good, Allie. You know...before you came, he was so...so annoying!" She giggled and Allie had to laugh, too. "Anyway, thank you. I don't know how you do it."

Allie furrowed her brows, quickly swapping her trainers for a pair of high-heels. "Oh, yeah? Do what?"

Sara swallowed. "This...everything. I don't know how you handle work, family, Greg and trying to maintain a house-wife status. Not that I think of you as a house-wife or anything-"

"That's okay!" Allie grinned. She was secretly fond of being called a house-wife. It made her feel _important_. "But I still don't get what you mean."

"Well..." Sara closed her locker and leant against it. "You manage to do all of that- the work, the dinner, but then you go and see your family. Then you come home and then...you talk. You actually have a conversation, Allie. Most of us don't even know what that's like. You deserve a medal or something." She laughed, hollowly.

Allie bit her lip and glanced down at the floor. "Really? I always thought...it was kinda..._easy_, I guess."

Sara shrugged. "Maybe it's just me, then."

Allie inwardly groaned. Blame it on her curiosity, but she _had_ to know what was bothering Sara. "Is this about you and Grissom?"

Sara smiled, lightly. "No...it's...I just...sometimes, it's like he forgets I'm there. H-he forgets to tell me things- _all the time_...he gets his own food even when I've cooked dinner...then he plays with his bugs. It's just..." She sighed, unable to finish her sentence.

Allie frowned. Stupid Grissom. Wouldn't know a good thing until it hit him over the head. "Oh, Sara...I had no idea-"

Sara threw her hands up, agape. "Oh, no! No, no...we're _happy_ and all, but...I just wish he'd pay more attention sometimes, you know? I mean, does Greg ever buy you things? Like, romantic things? Not just on your birthday." Secretly, Sara wondered if Greg _remembered_ Allie's birthday, cause Grissom sure as Hell didn't.

"Well..." Allie bit her lip. All the time. He was _constantly_ showering her with things. Mostly bangles, fake lip-rings, CDs...but still, it was the thought that counts. "Yeah, but...material goods aren't important. Does he tell you he loves you?"

Sara nodded. "Sure. Maybe...every night. Does Greg?"

Almost every hour of every day, when he gets the chance. She sighed. "Yeah. Maybe Grissom just isn't...I mean, he needs experience, Sara...just - give him time, okay? I'm sure he'll come around." If he didn't, she'd be sure to have a word with him. Sara nodded again, grinning.

"Thanks, Al. Take it easy, okay?" She sauntered past Allie, giving her a gentle squeeze on her shoulder. Allie smiled and nodded to herself. She didn't like the sound of Sara's situation. And she needed to have a talk with Grissom...Sara was right. She needed a medal.

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The weekend rolled by quickly and Allie couldn't have been more wrong. _Sure_, they started off in bed, watching SpongeBob, but then they quickly got up on account of the amount of visitors in the house. Papa Olaf, Aunt Greta, Susie, Tallulah and Henry were all loitering around, desperate to get started on the wedding preparations. Oh, well...no rest for the wicked, Allie decided. She yawned and pulled her cardigan closer. The doorbell had rang just after she'd gotten out of the shower, so her hair was still wet, and she had just flung on whatever pyjamas she'd been wearing the previous night. Again, she was on Tallulah-duty. Susie still hadn't gotten around to keeping an eye on her 24-7. Usually, Allie got that job. Susie and Greta were gathered around the table, checking out wedding dresses, and Greg and Olaf were discussing cars. Between the four of them, Allie could barely hear herself think. So, she took Tallulah and she took her into the sitting room. Her peace was short-lived when Greta came in and fetched her to check out a few dresses. Suddenly, the next thing she knew, she was out trying on dresses with Susie, Greta _and_ her mother. Bonnie had met them on their way to Valerie Kigton's. Allie couldn't have imagined anything worse in her whole life. Scary, hormone-filled women desperately trying to dress you up how they wanted. Not how Allie wanted. She pictured herself in a dress. Not a wedding dress, just a prom dress. Green, maybe...or pink. Oh, how she would've _adored_ pink. But no...white. Or off-white. _Ivory_. She sat down in front of the mirror and attempted to zip the new ivory ball-gown. Truly, she felt like crying. Dress-shopping was now her least favourite past-time. She winced as the zipped only _just_ made it's way to the top.

"Well, Allie? Is it done yet? Do you need any help? And how does it look?" Susie Sanders. Loudest woman in the world.

Allie groaned. She looked like a cake. "I hate it, Susie."

Susie tutted and announced the news to Bonnie and Greta who immediately got her another dress to try. "Now, Allie, if you need help, ask me, okay? Trust me, honey...I've had _plenty_ of experience." Bonnie laughed to herself.

"Mom...I don't think I can try on anymore dresses...My back hurts." Any excuse in the world and Allie would've used it at that moment in time.

"Only two more, Allie...don't you worry!" Greta exclaimed. The next hour was spent trying on eighteen different dresses. None of which were at all suitable. If Allie liked them - Bonnie, Greta and Susie _hated_ them. But Allie wasn't fond of any of their choices. She wanted plain. White. Not _**red**_! She pushed herself against the wall and sighed in frustration. Another thing - they were all picking dresses two sizes too small for her! Size ten! _Not_ size eight. Or six! Ridiculous. Absolutely pathetic. "Allie, sweetheart, how's that dress?"

"Awful!" Allie gritted her teeth. "I hate it. It won't go up and I'm getting _out_ of here!" Allie pulled the dress down and pulled it up with such anger that she thought she might throw it at the three elder women if she had a chance. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She was already developing a stress-pain in her abdomen, and she was far too hot to be healthy. Suddenly, Bonnie burst into the dressing room and handed her the phone.

"Here. It's Greg. He has something to tell you." Bonnie grinned, eyeing her up with a curious look. Then again, a twenty-seven year old woman standing in her underwear with her eyes squeezed shut, threatening to cry was a very, _very_ strange sight to behold.

"Thanks." Allie said, reluctantly. She put the phone to her ear and sighed. "Please, God, tell me you've got great news!"

"**Actually, yeah! I got a call from Pendanski, and he wants me to go and get my cast removed. I'm on my way to the hospital now."**

Allie grinned. "Oh, good...that's great, babe...listen, I have to go, but...be careful. Is Olaf going with you?"

"**Yeah. We're walking."**

"Cool...okay, really, gotta go. Love you, bye!" The reason for Allie's urgency to get Greg off the phone so quickly was because she could see Bonnie coming with another horrendous dress, no doubt a size or two too small.

"**Yeah, love you, too-"** And then he was gone. Allie shoved her phone into her jeans pocket and quickly pulled said trousers on. She got her shirt and stuffed it in her bag, quickly putting her zip-up sweater on. It was Greg's sweater, and it was far too big, but it was warm and _very_ cosy. She slipped her shoes on and opened the curtain of the fitting-rooms. Bonnie was about five steps away with a red dress. She had a serious obsession with the colour red on a dress.

"Oh, Mom...I just got a call from Greg. Uh, he's headed to the hospital to get his cast off." Allie pulled a few strands of hair out of her way. Her hair was getting too long. Thick and long - not a good combination. But Greg seemed to enjoy it.

Bonnie gave Allie a serious disappointed look. "Oh...well, why don't you try this here dress on for me? Just one second?"

Allie shook her head. "Sorry...I can't...and I actually have to go and see a man about a car before I get to the hospital. You got a ride home?"

Bonnie nodded. "Carl's outside waiting on me. You know, I think you'd have time to try this one on." A red meringue.

Allie gritted her teeth again. Why would nobody listen to her? "Mom, seriously, I can't...I have to make Greg's birthday up to him..." Considering he hadn't had such a great one, even after all of her preparing and getting things ready. "But I'll take a rain-check, okay?" She smiled as best she could.

Bonnie cocked her head to the side, obviously downcast. "Alright. Next time you might actually buy something."

Allie grinned. "Maybe, Mom. Maybe."

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So, the four women parted ways and Allie couldn't have been happier to get away from them all. She felt fo Henry, she really did. He had to do a lot of looking-after Tallulah - like today - and he had to put up with Scary-Susie. She sighed as she turned on the ignition of her car and headed over to Jake at the garage. Thankfully, he hadn't sold the Charger. It was cheesy, and it was a little more than she was originally willing to pay, but she knew he loved them, so it was worth it. She handed over the money, six-thousand, and told Jake to deliver it to the apartment later. She was glad Greg's arm was finally free of the cast. So, Allie made her way home, cut a teensy bit off her hair - in a choppy style, very modern and very stylish -, made herself some lunch and turned on the TV. Finally, a chance to get some peace. Until her phone rang. She groaned and answered it.

"Yellow?"

"**Hey, where are you?"** Greg. Of course. At the hospital, needing a lift home.

"Ugh! I am so sorry, I will be right there." And ten minutes later she was there, met by an ecstatic Greg and a very-pleased Olaf.

"Allie! Look! No cast!" Greg ran up to her and engulfed her in a hug. She grinned and wrapped her arms around him.

"Excellent, Greg! It looks well...is it still sore?" Allie reached out and touched it gently, as if it were doused in disease. Greg shook his head.

"No! Not at all!" He rambled on, sounding like an eight-year old kid with a new toy, except he was twenty-eight and it was his arm.

All the way to the car, he talked...and talked. Then he talked some more. Olaf got in the back seat and Allie was in the driving seat. Yet Greg just wouldn't shut up.

But Allie didn't mind. She never did.

**A/N: Hola!**

**Okay, long chapter and I cut it off at a really, really bad place but I have to go because the Notebook is on and I LOVE that movie! Oh, and I'm glad I killed Ashley off - she deserved it, I think. Well, maybe a teensy bit harsh. Anyways, there will be more hopefully at the end of the week! Also, I have a really, really good plot bunny for the sequel to this here story...I know, I know, but I can't get them out of my head!**

**Thanks to my reviewers...I love chapter twenty-four!**

**Anywho, have a great rest of the day,**

**JauntyChick**

**XOX**


	27. Chapter TwentySix

Chapter Twenty-Six

**A/N: Hi! Sorry for the long wait...there is a tiny bit of cross-dressing in this chapter, but I don't know if it's still considered cross-dressing when it's a girl! Enjoy :D**

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Allie frowned as she put the last part of the icing over the cake. She _hated_ icing cakes, because it was all so damned sticky. Plus, it was far too early in the day to have icing in your hair. Or on your face, for that matter. She had tied her hair up after getting it done at the hairdressers. Martin, _the_ hairdresser, had done a pretty good job that day. It was about two inches shorter than before, and her fringe was _definitely_ better. The golden colours in her hair were accentuated by the sun streaming through her window. She would never know why sinks were always designed to be in front of a window. It wasn't fair, and it wasn't right. She sighed, licked her finger and put the knife in the sink. Greg had decided he was heading back to work for a few hours, try and get some paperwork sorted. Still feeling jilted by the fact that Ashley chose to kill herself the night before Greg's birthday, Allie decided she'd try and make him a better one, a few weeks after. She stopped in front of the mirror and wrinkled her nose. A shower and she'd be set. After a quick jaunt into the bathroom, where she had managed to work out her stiff shoulder with the power-shower, she sauntered into the bedroom and quickly began foraging through her wardrobe for clothes. Her mother had once told her that no girl could ever have enough clothes, but Allie didn't really mind only having three different pairs of jeans, six skirts, one suit, two pairs of black trousers, several sweaters, a lot of tops and twelve necklaces. It wasn't _truly_ important. Besides, she _loved_ Greg's shirts. They were too big, for one thing, and she probably looked like an idiot, but they were cosy, warm and they smelt like Greg, which was the most perfect thing in a shirt. She stifled a yawn and somehow made her way to Greg's wardrobe. She quickly opened it and pulled out the new shirt. It was blue, with a brown and pink vertical stripe. He'd been wearing it for a while, but he had a specific favourite. Beige, with a slightly darker beige flower-pattern on it. She took it off the hanger and slipped it on over her white tank-top. _Perfect_. She took her pyjama pants off, and pulled on a pair of jeans with pink-lining. Greg's shirt would do for the moment. After an hour or so of cleaning, she was beginning to get frantic about this non-existent car. It was supposed to be outside the apartment at ten-forty. It was now eleven-thirty. She pondered over whether she should give Jake a call and see what was happening, but decided against it. She didn't want to be a harpy. Instead, she swanned into the living-room and began tidying up. She decided she must've spent at least two full years of her life cleaning things up, considering neither her mother nor her father had ever bothered. Dylan wouldn't even lift his finger if he didn't have to. Suddenly, her phone started vibrating on the coffee table.

"Yellow?" Damn! She really had to stop saying that.

"**Hi, Allie Moore? Hey, this is Jake here...listen, that car you bought...well, see, we kinda lost it, **_**but**_**-"**

"You lost it?" Allie raised her eyebrows, more worried than annoyed. Jake cleared his throat.

"**Yes, we think someone stole it. But don't worry- we've got another car for you. I-it's better condition, anyway. But...it's a little bit more expensive."**

Allie inwardly groaned. Anymore money and she'd end up getting married in her nightgown. "Well...how much more expensive?"

Jake sighed audibly on the other end of the line. **"Like, a grand more expensive. I'll see if I can knock anything off it, but don't hold your breath."**

Allie smiled to herself. "Okay, then. What kind of car is this new one, then?"

"**Oh, wait until you see it- you're gonna die!"**

Allie raised her eyebrows. She hadn't a clue what it was about cars that got men so excited. "Really? It's that good, huh?"

"**Yeah, it's a Chevy Nova SS. 1975. Baby blue. All new engines, tyres, had a re-paint only a month ago. It's beautiful."**

"Great...so when can you deliver it?"

"**Mm...I'm thinking later, around nine-ish?"**

"Nine?" Allie raised her eyebrows and

"**Yeah, we've got another few cars to off-load. Besides, wasn't your fiance's birthday...uh, **_**last**_** week? I'm sure another few hours won't kill him."**

Allie scoffed. Insensitive asshole, that was going to be Jake's new title. "Yeah, alright, then. Bye." And he quickly hung up before replying to her. "_Asshole_." She muttered to herself and continued on going about her cleaning.

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The cleaning and vacuuming led to another few things and, at around seven-thirty, she found herself looking through her old stuff. Time capsules had always intrigued her. Especially her own one. Sure, Dylan managed to pack a lot more things in, but her's was so dynamic. Old news-clippings about rare medical diseases that had long since died out. Her own rings that he bought for fifty-cents on the strip when she was fifteen. The most perplexing thing was a necklace she had made when she was much younger. It was a long, thin strip of metal. An aerial, actually, probably from some sort of remote-control thing of Dylan's. She had one just like it, however, that had cost Greg twenty-three dollars. She grinned and lifted it out of the box before putting it around her neck and clasping it together. There were several more odd artefacts and anecdotes that she had mostly 'borrowed' from people she knew. Cinema tickets and old receipts for CDs that she bought were popular, too. She quickly shut the box and re-hid it under her side of the bed. She heard the door into the apartment opening and quickly stood up. She was still wearing his shirt, which she hadn't noticed. She sauntered into the sitting room to find Greg glaring at the fridge. He was hungry, and was definitely looking forward to a quiet night in. Preferably sleeping, with Allie casually draped over his arm, and preferably on his couch. "Hey, Greg...how's it going?"

Greg looked up and grinned. "Great! I solved a case and I didn't even go to the scene."

Allie tilted her head to the side. "Congratulations. How's the arm?"

"Meh. Could be better...could still be a sling." He took a tomato out of the fridge and threw it into the sink, and then pulled out some ham. "What about you? You do anything fun when I was out?"

"Yes! I found my old time capsule...look!" She walked up to him and held her necklace up. He furrowed his brows.

"Didn't I get you one just like that?" The corners of his mouth twitched upwards. "And since when did you have a time capsule?"

Allie grinned. "Since I was, like, _twelve_! Except...well, I always added little things to it until I was eighteen or nineteen and you wanna see the amount of complete and utter krud that's in it, Greg. And of course, I mean the best kind of krud. Seriously, I bought nineteen CDs in the one year, but I only saw three movies. Sad, isn't it? Obviously I was one of those room-dwellers, although _everyone_ said I talked too much." Greg just had to grin and wonder _who_ exactly could think such a thing. "And I have a brooch of my grandma's that we all thought was missing." She paused for a second, captured momentarily by a wave of guilt. "Anyway, I found thirty-bucks in there, too." A few moments passed before Allie spoke again, because she couldn't remember what she had first planned to tell Greg. Oh, right...she needed a distraction for him. "So...I'm thinking me and you should go out tonight."

"Out where? Cause...I would be perfectly happy with a DVD." He yawned and turned to her with his eyebrows raised slightly, and his mouth was doing it's own usual lopsided thing and suddenly - something inside Allie Moore snapped. She hadn't a clue why it did, but she was glad that it did. She slammed the fridge door shut and pushed Greg up against it. Standing up on her tip-toes and kissing him, she brazenly ran a hand through his short, spiked hair. Greg quickly returned the favour by placing his hand on her waist while the other hand set to work on her neck. She shivered, tousling his hair up a little. The next thing she knew, they were in the corridor, seemingly unable to break apart. Greg lifted Allie up, pushing her against the wall next to the bedroom quickly as she removed her shirt, and blatantly refused to kiss her. Instead, he stood there grinning like a fool. Allie winced.

"Greg! What _are _you doing?" Impatience. A hindrance and a burden. For Allie, anyway.

He smiled, voice husky and full of charm. "Admiring. You, specifically. You know, even in my wildest dreams, I would _never _have imagined how _incredibly _beautiful you are when you're not wearing a shirt." He knew he sounded like a terrible romance novel written in the eighties, but he sincerely didn't care. Once he added the little bit of Dynamic-Greg-ness - letting his eyes go Heaven-ward and using so much emphasis on the one word that no italics could ever do it justice - he used in all his compliments, it sounded alright. Besides, had he said any of the other words to describe her that were floating in his head, she might not have reacted as nicely.

Allie raised an eyebrow and looked down at her barely-covered chest. There were so many things about that particular sentence that she would've loved to delve into. "Beautiful? _Incredibly_ beautiful?" She blushed slightly and looked down at the floor for a split-second. This boy was too much. "You've gotta be kidding me..." She pulled him towards her and kissed him, eagerly. This time, Greg ran his hand through Allie's hair, noticing the fresh flowery scent of perfume that surrounded him. Allie's, evidently. Allie wrapped her legs around his waist, noticing that, once again, they were on the move towards the bedroom door which was promptly shut behind them as they entered the room.

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An hour or two later, Allie and Greg were tangled up in the purple sheets of their bed. Allie was on her back, hair sprawled all over the place with Greg's leg entangled in her own. She smiled and sighed contentedly. Greg was busy toying with her stomach under the covers as his head rested just over her rib-cage. Allie glanced down at him and grinned to herself as she lovingly toyed with his hair. Greg was surprisingly quiet as he focused his attention on rubbing little triangles or squares above her belly-button. Allie finally spoke up, but her voice had long since cracked and was slightly quiet and crinkly. Well, that's how _she _would've described it.

"Oh, Greg..." She sighed again, staring intently at the ceiling. This had to be - by far - her favourite room in the house what with the high-ceiling, the huge cosy bed with a wooden frame, wooden floor with a single cream-coloured carpet adorning it and massive purple curtains.

"Yes?" He asked, voice teasingly low. Until now, he had been perfectly secure, lying there silently, just enjoying the post-passion cloud that was currently hovering above the two of them.

"I love you..." She swallowed and let her hand rest on his head.

"I love you, too. Are you warm enough?"

Allie giggled. "Oh...that's a nice romantic follow-up. Nothing I like more than a guy asking me if I'm warm enough _right_ after he tells me he loves me. And yes." She paused, grinning to herself. "I'm plenty warm."

Greg looked up from her rib-cage and smiled. "You're incredible." Two simple words couldn't have ever had such effects on anyone as they did on Allie.

Allie blushed, unsure of _where_ exactly that came from. "And you're adorable." She hoisted herself up and pulled Greg along with her until they were both lying directly next to each other, both sets of eyes fixed on one another. They were silent for another few minutes until Greg spoke up.

"Allie, babe...I think I have to get up. I'm _really_ hungry."

Allie cocked her eyebrow at him. "You're hungry?"

He nodded. "You jumped on me when I was trying to make a sandwich. Which brings me to the conclusion that you're either trying to starve me," He smiled. "Or tire me out. And now you've succeeded with both, so congratulations." He pulled her tighter and grinned as she immediately burrowed her head into his neck.

Allie wrapped her arms tightly around his waist and shifted herself closer into him. _Now_ she was feeling colder. She had a terrible affliction of being susceptible to the cold. "Oh, well...guess I'd better let you go, then." Suddenly she sat up, and lifted Greg's abandoned shirt off the floor. She wandered around for a few moments, finally found her underwear and her trousers, although she was determined that there was no chance in Hell she was taking Greg's shirt off anytime soon, and sauntered over to the door. "I'll be right back. Do not move a muscle."

So Greg lay back down on the bed, letting his mind wander off to a place of it's own. That Allie Moore...she was gonna destroy him. He knew it, but he really didn't want to do anything about it. Before Allie came to the lab, everyone had Greg pegged as some sort of male-hussy. Really, he wasn't. He'd maybe had...what, _three_ dates before Allie came around? Dateless Wonder. That's what he was. He rolled over onto his back and frowned at the ceiling. Maybe he was slowly but surely turning into one of those guys that hung around with females too much and ended up with the exact same thoughts, and perhaps the feelings, as their estrogen-filled counterparts. No, he shook his head, his mind was too dirty and corrupt for things like that. Then again, Allie wasn't much of a saint, either. A few minutes later, she emerged back from the kitchen with a plate of food and began setting it down in front of Greg. He grinned. "Food, too?" He looked up at the ceiling, hands in a prayer-gesture. "Thank you, Lord!"

Allie smiled and sat down next to him, stealing a tiny bit of lettuce off his plate. "Yeah, well...don't get too used to it. Consider this...a belated birthday..._thing_."

Greg smirked and quickly took a bite of the huge sandwich. "Happy birthday to me..." And so they exchanged banter back and forth for a while, and then Allie discovered it was just after nine. She shot up out of the bed and quickly pulled her own shirt on before placing Greg's shirt over it.

"Hold on...I have, uh, something to take care of...just, uh," She paused, fluffed her hair up a little and quickly exited the room, leaving Greg bewildered and bemused.

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Allie ran down the stairs and quickly pushed the door open, trailing her bag along with her. Jake said nine-ish...he should be here any second. So Allie perched herself on the wall outside the building and hugged herself slightly. It was far too cold to be doing something like this. And yet, here she was. She sighed and waited another five minutes for Jake. Just as she was about to get her cell phone out and give him a call, he drove up, music blaring from the stereo and Allie was sure he was driving over the legal limit. Jake shot out of the car, cheesy smile over his face. Allie smiled back and walked over to him.

"Hey...you got here. Finally." There wasn't a hint of sarcasm in her tone, although she had hoped there would've been. She could never be half as scathing as her mother. Jake looked down at the ground.

"Yeah, anyway...here's the keys, all the paperwork, I'll need you to sign here and," He grinned. "I'll need a cheque."

Allie nodded and pulled her checkbook out. "Uh, you got a pen?"

Jake raised his eyebrows and glanced away. "Allie, do I look like the kinda guy that carries a pen around with him?"

Allie raised her eyebrows and frowned before pulling her bag open and pulling out a pen. "How much?"

"That's exactly one grand...we cashed the old cheque."

Allie wrote down the correct amount onto the slip and handed it to Jake. He thanked her and began walking down the street. She asked him if he wanted a lift, but he said no. It didn't really bother her too much, anyway. Jake was beginning to get on her last nerves, so once again, out came the cell phone and Greg's number was suddenly dialed onto the screen. She glanced up at the apartment that she had grown so fond of and smirked to herself. Greg picked up and sighed. "Allie, where are you?"

"Outside. Put some pants on. Oh, and I'd definitely recommend bringing my sweater. We're going for a ride."

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**A/N: Hola!**

**Okay, I am so uberly sorry for the long wait and for such a stupidly long chapter. I couldn't get it finished cause I hadn't any time and I had to write a chapter of Headstrong and oh! So busy. Anyway, hope you all like it. Thanks to my reviewers:**

**Danica: Yeah, poor Allie...I feel for her! Ooh, and you definitely need to update soon! I'm having withdrawal symptoms! **

**LovinGreg247: I know!! Such pretty cars, but the Chevy Nova SS is gorgeous! Plus, I couldn't find any nice vintage ones on the net, so!**

**Michelle: Thanks! I love your reviews :D Oh, and we MUST speak some evening on MSN now that I can work mine again, except now we've got storm weather over in Ireland and it keeps cutting out!!! Grr!**

**Clumsy Girl That Kills: LOL, thank you so much, newbie :D Personally, I adore the idea...but only if I could play Allie! **

**Nikki - last but in no way least!! -: Thanks!!! Hope you enjoyed the rest of this chapter. I did...although, I would've preferred writing it and getting it out there sooner! Gotta love the fluff!**

**To everybody else: Please press Benjamin for me...he's the lovely little button at the bottom of the screen and he loves you all dearly, so please...give him a push for me :D**

**Have a great rest of the day,**

**JauntyChick**

**XOX**


	28. Chapter TwentySeven

Chapter Twenty-Seven

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Greg's mouth almost fell open at the sight that befell him as he stepped outside; Allie Moore sprawled out over the bonnet of the world's prettiest car. Well, one of them. He quickly waltzed over to the car, unsure as to who owned it. And why was Allie lying there, trying to be blatantly nonchalant. She flashed him a dazzling smile and crossed her legs, hands clasped neatly across her lap.

"Hello Gregory..." She giggled to herself as he walked towards her, mouth agape. "Nice car, huh? Yeah...it's yours." She slid off the car and passed by him, making sure she brushed against him when she handed him the keys. "Chevy Nova SS, Greg. Blue, but the guy said he's paint it any colour you want for a reduced price." And so Greg stood there, jaw to the ground, for once in his life - _totally_ speechless. Allie waved a hand in front of his face, grinning. "Yo! You wanna add something here? I don't like the quiet, Sanders."

Greg suddenly bounded to life, rushing over to the car, admiring it up close. The windows, the seats, the new stereo! Oh, it was by far the coolest present he'd ever gotten. "Allie! It's...it's, amazing! Never in my life have I seen such a gear-stick! O-or the radio and the tyres...ohh!" And then she discovered she couldn't shut him up. He was rambling on about car-parts that she hadn't even heard of, so she took it as a good sign.

She moved over to the passenger side and opened the door, sitting herself in and smiling. "Happy, Greg?" Greg looked at her momentarily, grinned and nodded, obviously mute with joy. She rolled her eyes and started playing with the stereo. Tom Jones - best of. She gasped and quickly changed the channel. "Well, there is a _superb_ bass line." Greg finally straightened up, closed up whatever he had been doing and sat down in the driver's seat. He turned to Allie, broadened his already full-beam smile and started the ignition.

"Test drive, Allie?"

Allie rolled her eyes and nodded. "Fine by me."

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So they drove along in the new car, Greg - happy as Larry, and Allie - contented enough with the day's earlier events that she could've died and not had anything on her conscience to bother her. She sat back and sighed, watching random people from her window. Several times she had to tell Greg to slow down before he got picked up from Brass and the gang. Greg then decided they would go and visit Papa Olaf, which, Allie figured, was more like Greg's subtle way of boasting to his male peers. She would've _loved_ to see him showing Nick and Warrick.Even Allie knew that Tina wouldn't _ever_ buy Warrick a car. Greg made a left at a fork in the road and started driving past a large neighbourhood of fairly colourful houses. Even in the dark, Allie _knew_ they were brightly coloured. She really liked this part of the world. Everything was so nice, and perfect...yet there was always the occasional house she fell in love with. Never had she fallen as hard for anything - with the possible exception of Greg - as she did for the Glen House. The name was one that just rolled off the tongue, and the house itself was a dream for anyone. A bit of paint, a cut of the lawn...it'd be amazing. She gasped and threw her hands up.

"Greg! Stop the car just for _one_ second!" She half-yelled, and Greg immediately threw on the brakes. He widened his eyes and had a quick check over the scene in front of him; normal suburbia, white picket fences, _so_ much better than his apartment.

"What? What's wrong?" Greg frowned and turned the car off. Allie quickly glanced round at him and grinned.

"This place. It's...look at that house right there, Greg." She pointed to Glen House and smiled. Now, Allie Moore was _not_ a fanciful girl, by any means, but for some reason she could definitely picture herself and Greg seated outside in their own little hammock drinking martinis. Absolute perfection. "It's beautiful."

Greg rolled his eyes. She had done this once before, with a dress she had seen in a magazine, and then in a window of some random vintage shop near the Strip. "Allie. It's a house. A very, very un-purchasable house. You can't have it."

Allie groaned, and cocked her head to the side, sadly. "Yeah, but I _can_ dream." She opened her door and quickly stopped herself. There was a _family_ in that house. A family who were probably very, very happy with their situation. There was _not_ a 'for sale' sign. And yet she felt like she was getting practically _pulled_ into it.

"Allie- where are you going? No, no, no! Allie! Honey, wait!" But she was gone.He groaned, got out of the very shiny car and locked it behind him. With his current run of luck, it would've probably been likely to get stolen in the friendliest neighbourhood in Vegas. Allie was already at the gate of the house by the time Greg got to her. He sighed and folded his arms from the cold. "You're crazy, you know that, right?" Allie nodded and raised her eyebrows. Then, in a flash of sheer insanity, she opened the gate and took a step onto the path before Greg's hand flew to her shoulder. "What are you doing?"

Allie shrugged, giving him that look. That look that spoke so many more words than were necessary. "I just...wanted to have a look, is all."

Greg looked around for a moment, as if they were about to commit some sort of mortal sin. "If they see you, they'll think you're crazy."

Allie grinned. "You just said that I _am_ crazy. Anyway, I don't know them and it's unlikely I'll ever see them again, so." With that, she opened the gate wider and started for the front door. Greg groaned, still keeping a stealthy eye on the surrounding area. No way was he going into that house. Neither would Allie. So he watched, and kept on watching until she actually rang the doorbell, at which point he _had_ to intervene.He sauntered up the drive and frowned, standing next to Allie. She looked up at him and smiled quickly before a tall, thin, blonde woman opened the door. She looked a little bit startled, but all Greg and Allie could do was smile at her and _hope_ beyond hope that they didn't come across at mentalists. "Hi..." Allie started, taking a quick look inside. Greg raised his eyebrows, nudging Allie, who was seemingly mute. "Oh, uh, I'm Allie Moore and this is Greg. Sanders." She cleared her throat and the woman smiled, folding her arms and leaning against the door.

"Hi there...uh, can I help you at all? I mean, I don't mean to be rude, but..."

"Oh, no. No, no...we were just...we were out and we saw this house-" Allie stopped and looked up at Greg, who didn't look at all impressed. "Okay, _I_ saw the house and I just _had_ to have a look at it."She stopped and looked down at the ground. "Anyway, I'm sorry to bother you." Allie grabbed hold of Greg's arm, feeling entirely stupid and pathetic for getting so drawn in by a house. A house! She wished she could grow up just a little bit before she turned thirty. Maybe _develop_ her brain. Suddenly, the woman stopped them and smiled.

"Wait...Allie, isn't it?"

Allie turned round, slightly puzzled. "Yeah?"

The woman cleared her own throat. "Look, why don't you two come on in for a second...I'm sure I could show you around."

Greg and Allie exchanged an amused glance, and then they both nodded.The woman sauntered into the house and closed the door behind Allie and Greg.

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"So, uh, I'm Roberta, by the way." The woman said as she flicked the kettle on. Somehow, her 'tour' of the house had turned into coffee, and hopefully a good chat. A thin, friendly looking woman, Roberta had been living on her own in Glen House for three years after a painful divorce. Any company at all was better than Misery, contrary to what everyone says. "Are you two from around here?"

Allie sat down at the table and quickly surveyed the room. It was all so eclectic, with a red wall, white ceiling, beige tiled on the floor and several very modern counters. The fridge and freezer matched and there was a dishwasher - something sadly lacking in Greg's apartment."Uh, yeah, I'm from Utah, originally."

Greg, who hadn't ever been as stunned into silence as he was right at that moment, finally spoke up. "No, I'm from California. But I moved here a while back."

Roberta smiled. "And how long have you been together?"

"Three years." They answered in unison, and then exchanged a sincerely freaked out look at each other.They had definitely spent far too much time together. Allie blushed and looked away.

"Aw, cute." Roberta smiled again as she handed Greg and Allie their mugs. "So...you like the house?"

Allie nodded. "It's gorgeous. Really, very, uh...unique." Unique, indeed. The kitchen led into the sitting room, furnished with a large cream sofa, a leather recliner - something Greg couldn't be without -, a red wall to go with the three other white ones,a large TV and a major sense of contentedness and warmth. The ceilings were high, and there was a very ornate crystal chandelier stuck up onto it. The corridor next to the kitchen was thin, with nothing in it but a mirror and a wall clock, with the exact same decor that resided in the kitchen.It was all very Allie, so Greg could be easily persuaded. "How old is it?"

Roberta took a sip of her coffee and sat back. "Well, it _was_ my best friend's grandfather's house...but her and her family moved out _years_ ago. When I was a kid, I spent almost all my life over here. When the grandfather died, Susan left and the next thing - the house was up for sale. So I thought, hey, why not? And then...me and my husband- _ex-_husband - bought it. Anyway, we didn't really end well, and I got stuck with the world's most expensive bill. He threw me out, used all the electricity for a week and then sent me the bill. He left town years ago, but still...it still hurts to think about it." When she finished, Roberta just gazed off into space for a while, leaving Allie and Greg utterly shocked. Neither of them knew what to say.

Greg spoke up first. "So, uh, how old is the house?"

"Hm?" Roberta snapped out of her day-dream. "Oh, right...it's about seventy years old, I'd say. But me and Kevin re-did it when we moved in. Took out a few walls, put new ones in...the porch was always here, though. And the gazebo."

At this, lights went off in Allie's brain.She _loved_ gazebos. "There's a gazebo?"

Roberta nodded. "Yeah. Wanna see the upstairs?"

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Never had there been such delight in a person as there was when Allie looked out of the main bedroom window. The view was absolutely breathtaking. The field behind the house could only be viewed through an arch-shape in the trees, which, conveniently, only showed the sun-set. Or sun-rise. Greg sidled up next to Allie and put his hand on her waist. He knew she had probably set her heart on it ten times over, but he also had a fair idea that the house would never be theirs. Allie sighed and turned to him. "You have _no_ idea how much I adore this house, Greg."

No..but he knew she was crazy! Crazy but loveable. "You know we can't buy it. It's not for sale." And it was getting late. No way Papa Olaf would be able to check out the car in such dark conditions.

Allie glared at him. "Yes, thank you, Captain Buzzkill...shattering my dreams there." She giggled and moved away from the window. "Anyway, I was just..." She sighed. "Getting caught up in a little whirl-wind, head- thing." She waved it off and started for the stairs. Roberta had left them to take a look upstairs. And it couldn't have been more perfect. Two-storey house, painted all sorts of neutral colours, very warm and cosy-feeling,the garden was monumental, and it had a gazebo. Set up a hammock and Allie could practically move in. Plus, it was old, so Allie could definitely adore it all the more. She had always had a thing for the more mature home. Greg stopped her and nodded toward the other end of the long corridor.

"You know, you didn't check the bedroom." Leave it to Greg to notice _that_. Allie nodded and motioned for him to go first. Upon entrance to the room, both Allie and Greg's jaws nearly fell to the ground at the vista before them. A vista was probably the only way to describe it. The ceiling was 10", and the room width was massive. With walls painted a dramatic red, with hints of beige - much like the kitchen -, a few paintings were dotted here and there to add charm. The most prominent feature was a four-poster bed, red duvet-covers draped over the bed and several candles here and there.Thoroughly romantic and severely out of their league. "Whoa..." Greg grinned. "That is..."

"Wow?" Allie offered, seeing Greg unable to finish his sentence.

"Yeah." He swallowed.This house seriously kicked the ass of his apartment.Scratch that - it shot it, backed it up against a wall and beat it to a pulp.Even the one room put him to shame. "So I think we should go-"

"Yeah!" Allie clambered out of the room with Greg behind her, feeling more than a tad ridiculous for getting so worked up. Over a house. Since when did that happen? They returned downstairs to find Roberta watching her TV, engrossed in the programme. Allie cleared her throat. "Uh, Roberta? Thank you _so_ much for letting us see your house. It really is, fabulous, isn't it, Greg?" Allie nudged Greg, who was still in a speechless shock.

"Uh, yeah..._fabulous_." Greg frowned at his usage of the word. "We're sorry we kept you up so late." He checked his watch; 10:47PM.

Roberta smiled and stood up. "No...thank _you_ for taking an interest. And don't worry about it- I've got a Desperate Housewives marathon on my Tivo." So Roberta showed them to the front door and they quickly scarpered.In the car, Allie bit her lower lip and smiled at Greg.

"I can't believe you did that, Al. You are gonna be the death of me."

"Yeah, right, like you didn't enjoy nosying around some random woman's house." Allie put her seat-belt on and slammed her head against the head-rest. "I think..."

Greg groaned. "Never a good sign."

Allie glared. "Anyway, I think we shouldn't ever tell anyone that we did that." Greg cleared his throat, loudly, as if to prove a point. "Okay, that _I_ did that."

Greg turned on the ignition, proudly admiring the new car-feeling that was floating around in the air. "Although...that bedroom..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "Damn. Just, _damn_!"

Allie giggled. "Alright, you...home. I'm sorry about that, by the way... I just...kinda got drawn into the house, you know?"

Greg shrugged. He didn't know. He had never, _ever_ been pulled into a house before. "Yeah, and by the way...this car - whoa." He grinned, leant over, and kissed Allie on the cheek.They had recently gone beyond sickeningly adorable and entered into a whole other realm of adoration for each other.

Now, though, they both wanted something they couldn't have; a new house.

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The next morning - or much later that evening, after only a few hours of light sleep -, Allie groaned as her phone started ringing on the bedside-table next to Greg. It was far too early for her phone to be ringing. She pulled her head up off of the bed right to Greg's exposed chest and raised an eyebrow. She moved over so as she was evenly settled on his torso. Grabbing the phone off the night stand, Allie somehow knocked into Greg, causing him to stir a little. He swallowed and groaned slightly. Allie rolled her eyes, and, in their blurry, sleep-deprived state, it hurt. Allie checked the called ID. Grissom. Oh, no...

"Hello?" She answered, not very enthusiastically. Grissom sighed, audibly.

"Good morning, Allison. Did I wake you up?" He asked, breezily. Allie frowned.

"No. Not at all." Sarcasm. That was _bound_ to get rid of him. Greg stirred again, pulling Allie closer to him until he finally let his hands rest over her hip. She smiled to herself and shook her head.That Greg...honestly!

"Shh. Go back to sleep." He whispered and Allie had to roll her eyes again just before she slipped back to her own side of the bed instead of lying over Greg's arm. All Greg had wanted was a few hours sleep before getting back to work tomorrow.

"Sorry about that, Grissom...Greg likes his sleep." She glanced at the clock next to her. Four-twenty in the morning. This had better be good. "Uh, what's up, anyway? I assume you're calling for some reason... You, know, _other_ than to destroy what little hopes of sleep I'd had." She let out a tiny chuckle to let Grissom know she was kidding.

"We have a situation down here, and we would appreciate it if you came down and helped us to sort it out."

Allie sat up and frowned intensely."What sort of situation?"

Grissom sighed again. "One you need to come and check out, Allison."

Oh, no.

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**A/N: Gasp!!! What sort of 'situation'??? Sorry about the uber-abrupt ending, but I absolutely couldn't find a place to stop this chapter. The whole house-viewing thing sorta came from nowhere, but my finger's just seemed to get glued to the keys and then I could **_**not**_** stop writing it. Even though, it was midnight and I was almost half-dead and didn't really understand much of what I was writing, so all mistakes are purely my fault and I know I should read the chapter over but I always get so damned excited when I'm uploading a chapter!!! Anyways, I enjoyed it, basically!**

**Thanks to my lovely wee reviewers:**

**Nikki: Thanks! I liked how it turned out, too...the fridge thing **_**was**_** kinda cool. **

**Danica V: Damn Jake! I'm glad he's written out of it :P**

**Lovin'Greg247: Fabulous, I know! Thanks for the R&R! **

**Michelle: I wish, too. sigh Ah, well...we can but dream, can't we? Thanks :D**

**And to everyone else: Please R&R, cause I would LOVE to get about 80 reviews for this one and I'm planning another - maybe - twenty chapters or so. Rounding it off at about forty-ish. **

**Please press Le Button, cause he needs interaction!**

**Have a great day,**

**JauntyChick**

**XOX**


	29. Chapter TwentyEight

Chapter Twenty-Eight:

**Warning: FLUFF! Midway through the story - fluff! I have no clue why there's so much of said fluff - because I surely did **_**not**_** plan for it to go that way, but there is, so enjoy it!**

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Allie rushed up from her bed and quickly began fumbling around for her clothes. Grissom's phone-call was hardly settling for her mind. In fact, all it had done was worry her. She picked up her vest-top and quickly threw it on the bed, just covering Greg's head.He groaned and sat up, not best pleased with her behaviour. He had wanted to sleep. He was _tired_ and thoroughly shattered after Allie had tired him out yesterday with one thing or another. Amazing girl - _far_ too much energy. Rubbing his eyes, trying to rid them of their desire to continue on being closed and comfortable,he started to speak, but discovered his voice held a very low, very deep tone to it. "What's wrong, Allie?"

Allie sighed and finally pulled her purple slip off and threw it onto her side of the bed, leaving her only in her underwear._Now_ Greg was thankful he hadn't let his eyes drift shut again. "Damn Grissom...no, actually, I take it back - it's not Grissom. It's _Dylan_. Grissom said he's in the lab...they picked him up. What I wanna know is...why did they _have_ to pick him up?" She sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed, attempting to get her eyes to stay focused on one particular thing. "Anyway..." She grabbed the vest-top from beside Greg and pulled it on, and then came the trousers.She had pondered whether or not to get some pyjamas for her journey, because she wanted to be warm, but then, that wouldn't be very professional. So she went with the jeans. Greg's sweater was then added to her ensemble and then she walked over to the mirror and flicked on the dim lights next to it. Her hair was messy, but perfectly fine and she doubted very much if she would have to do anything else, so she went over to her side of the bed and put her slippers on. "I'll be back later. Go back to sleep." She smiled at him and kissed him on the cheek. 

"You want me to come with?" Greg made like he was about to get up and get ready, even though he really hadn't had any intentions to.Allie shook her head. 

"Not unless you want to hear me shout and rant and rave at my brother." Her tone was one of amusement, but Greg knew there wasn't a chance that she was kidding. Dylan had become a little bit harder to handle over the past year, since moving out, but Frank was always more responsible and caring about things. Besides, Bonnie and Carl moving in with them couldn't have been too much fun. 

Greg paused for a second before putting his legs back under the cover. "Nah, I'll skip it, thanks. Love you." He pressed his head against the pillow and shut his eyes and Allie felt her stomach momentarily constrict. 

"I love you, too. Bye." And she slipped out of the door and into her car. Las Vegas at four in the morning; not such a pretty sight. Sure the lights were enchanting, but there were loads of scantily-dressed women parading about like they owned the place and the night. Which, for the most part, they probably did. She sighed as she stopped at a set of traffic lights and turned her radio on. Her options were: sappy romantic music or Marilyn Manson. She smiled and settled for Manson. Years of Greg playing him at the lab had made her enjoy him, secretly. Greg must _never_ know. Especially not after their discussion over who's version of 'Tainted Love' was better. Greg argued and persisted that it was the Manson version, but Allie stood her ground over Soft Cell. Recently, she had come over to his way of thinking.It was good, and it _was_ hard-rocking.She blinked and resumed driving and Glen House momentarily returned to her mind, but she pushed it out. A few moments later, she arrived at the lab. She flew open the door and practiced her best maternal pose and demeanor and suddenly wondered why Bonnie wasn't the one doing this. Probably in her bed, enjoying her sleep, cuddled up next to the one she loves. Allie waved that thought away, too. She was just bitter and a teensy bit jealous from having no sleep.Grissom was seated next to reception and so was Warrick. "Hey, guys. Where's the, uh, _situation_, then? I'll beat him up if you want."

Warrick stood up and walked over to her."He's in the interrogation room, Allie. We found him thumbing for a ride on Fremont Street. Him and some woman, calls herself 'Scarlett'."

Allie arched her eyebrow, unimpressed. "_Woman_?"

Grissom stood up. "She's thirty-three, Allie.He says he found her on the corner of Fremont Street."

Allie swallowed and looked down at the ground.And she'd been having _such_ a good day. "Well how the Hell did he get over there anyway?" Warrick and Grissom shrugged and then took her to the interrogation room. She sat down in front of Dylan with a thorough scowl over her features. She cocked her eyebrow and opened her mouth slightly before shutting it. "Dylan...do you mind explaining to me, why the _Hell_ you were hitching on Fremont street? Better yet, what were you up to with a thirty-three year old _prostitute_?" Allie's voice had gone from normal, to just above a whisper.Dylan scoffed. 

"You don't get it, Allie." He sat back and folded his arms. Allie rolled her eyes. 

"Don't get what? What don't I get?" 

"Everything!" He sighed, feeling a tad more annoyed than he should be. "God, since Mom and Carl moved in I haven't had one second's peace to myself. Every turnabout, she's trying to do something, set me up with Stacey, or Finola, and then she gets me this brand new wardrobe and it's...it isn't _me_, Allie! I'm seventeen! I wanna wear what I want and I wanna date the girls _I_ like. Not preps. I want out of there, man. I hate it." Dylan sighed heavily at the end of his outburst. Allie sat back and suddenly felt like bursting into either a fit of laughter or a fit of tears. Instead, she went with her curious side. 

"Wait, wait, hold on and- _back up_! So...does anyone know that you've left?" Dylan shook his head. "Seriously? Not even Frank?"

Dylan looked at his hand. "No. Especially not Frank." 

"Why not? What's he done to you that's so wrong?" She had long since run out of sympathy for Dylan after he was caught a year previous throwing paint over one of his teacher's cars. Suspended for two weeks. Then six months of non-stop detention and cleaning ensued. 

"Allie! He's part of what's ruining my life! He-he's spending all the time he has with Mom, he's learning how to cook, how to clean - he's stopped dying his hair and he threw out all his black clothes. In fact, he's just gone _way _down in my estimation just by me telling you all of this!" Dylan snapped. Allie sat back and frowned. This was worse than the Sara and Grissom-Gate as Hodges had named it, affectionately.

"Okay. Okay...uh." Words of wisdom, that was _not_ Allie's forte."Ahh, okay." She sat forward but then sat back. "Alright, tell you what...you go home tonight, don't mention this to _anyone_ and I'll be over tomorrow night. Just, keep the peace, okay? But wait- what was the hooker all about?"

Dylan smiled to himself. "She's nice. She wanted to go to Texas, and I was headed for Des Moines. We were gonna keep in touch."

Allie leant forward again, lowering her voice and going all motherly-protective and stern. "Did anything between you two...I mean, you know...did you two do _anything_? Cause if you did, Dylan, that's illegal-"

"Relax, Al. We never even looked at each other. Well...she hugged me, but I hardly think _that_'s the same." He smiled and stood up. 

Allie stood up then, too, and rolled her eyes as she checked watch. Nearly five in the morning.Soon enough it would be getting light again and then she'd have to get up for work. Damn lucky Greg Sanders. "Alright. We're going home. Get in the car. And don't look so pleased with yourself, I was supposed to be telling you off. And if Greg asks, I was not pleased, which, by the way, I'm not!" She lowered her voice, but somehow raised it so as it was near a yell. "I mean, do you know how worried I've been. Honestly, Dylan. Besides, have you got any clue how incredibly, monumentally stupid it is to hitch-hike anywhere in Vegas? In fact, just anywhere!" Suddenly, Allie exploded and started yelling at him about the pros and cons of leaving home before you turned eighteen."And if you ever, _ever_ do this again, I swear to God I will not be responsible for my actions." Warrick opened the door then and raised his eyebrows at Allie. Dylan had a seriously startled expression on his face, as he had only ever see Allie explode like that once before, and it was not a nice sight. Allie folded her arms and stormed out ahead of Dylan, casually sending Warrick a smile that told him it was all good. 

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Upon returning home, Allie found Greg sprawled out over her side of the bed, lying on his stomach. She rolled her eyes and pulled her trousers off and then came the top. She left Greg's sweater on, deciding she really didn't want to be cold. She pushed his arm out the way and smiled to herself as he mumbled something incoherent into the pillow. He shifted over as she was about to lie down so as his back would be facing her and she'd have about three inches of space to herself.She sighed and sat down next to him, pushing him over onto his own side. He groused and opened his eyes. 

"I'm cold, Allie. You moved me from my warm cocoon." His tone was his usual suggestive one, but he sincerely was cold.Allie grinned and moved closer to him so as her arm was just around his waist and she could nuzzle her head against his back, which was oddly comfortable. Pressing her cheek against his neck, she discovered he wasn't cold at all. But _she _wasn't the complaining sort.

"Aw, poor baby. You ever think about wearing something more than boxers? That might help." At this, Allie closed her eyes and sighed contentedly. Everytime she was with Greg, she just went into romantic-overdrive, with her rising-yet-constantly-falling-in-a-great-way in the very depths of her stomach and her intense heart-thumping. She was just too damned happy. Besides, she'd been thinking a lot about the wedding recently, and what kind of venue they'd have.She had a fair idea that they'd be getting married in a church, so everything was sending her into a gooey, flowery mood. Everything except 'situations' like the one her brother had just gotten into. But she didn't want to think about such things tonight. Greg rolled over so as he was facing Allie. 

"I like my boxers." He pulled the covers down and had a quick glance at them. "They've got smiley faces on them." He grinned at her, lopsidedly. Allie suddenly erupted into a fit of laughter, unable to stop. Greg pulled back for a second, examining her in her state of pure enjoyment. 

"Ah! Oh-my-God- I...ha!" She rolled over onto her back and continued giggling, uncontrollably. Greg looked down at his boxers again, unable to see why they were so hilarious. He then sat up, now wide awake. 

"Allie, what's so funny about my boxers?" Such a serious tone, such a silly question.

"They-ve- aha, ha, ha!" She clutched onto her stomach, noticing how much her sides were killing her. "Smiley...pants, ha!" Then Greg started laughing, and rubbed hi eye to make it look like it he wasn't. After another few minutes of light giggling, Allie let them subside, hoping she wouldn't get that image in her head again. "Ohh, sorry. That was too funny."

Greg lay back down next to her again and folded his arms, trying his best to sulk.Of course now he couldn't sulk. Not after Allie had laughed for ten minutes straight. She finally rolled back onto her side and let a small chortle escape from her lips as she found her eyes roaming down past Greg's torso under the cover. "Glad my underwear causes you such mirth."

"It does, Greg. It really does." After whispering the latter part of that sentence, Allie watched as Greg's eyes danced down past her neck, following her collarbone and then his fingers decided they would take on a life of their own.They traced all the way down her collarbone, onto the straps of her dotty-pink bra and then down the sides, before onto her rib-cage, trailing slowly, _torturously, _down to her abdomen before halting play altogether and then making their wayback up to her rib-cage where they settled merrily. She had let her breathing go to the wayside and just lay back and enjoyed Greg's hands over her. He leant forward and planted a series of kisses along her jaw-line, all the way down to her neck, where he proceeded trailing his hands along Allie's side. Suddenly, he pulled back and smiled at her before he settled his head onto his own pillow. That was enough torture for one night...

"Night, Allie."

Allie glared at him before she flashed a quick smile at the ceiling. "Night, Greg."

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At work the next afternoon, Allie ran into the break room, desperately searching for Grissom.She was _not_ pleased and she _knew_, she just _knew_, that it would always boil down to this. Her having to always be a mediator towards people. Sara had just gone into the lab, flung a whole pile of Allie's papers onto the desk and then sat down in an unfortunate mood and rambled on to Allie for ten minutes.Henceforth the reason why Allie was in such a rage. Greg looked up and grinned at her, which played absolute havoc with her insides, but she only turned her head to Grissom and folded her arms. Grissom looked up from whatever the Hell it was that he was doing - Allie didn't know, but it was bothering her, it _had_ to.She'd primed herself up by stealing some of Sara's anger for this - and raised his eyebrows.

"Hello, Allison. May I help you?" Manners. God damn his and his manners! She subconsciously glanced over at Greg and smiled lightly. How could she stay angry when Greg was right next to her looking the way he did, what with the spiked hair and the little secretive, _knowing_, lopsided smiles that he constantly throws at her. And the baguette he was eating...it smelt very nice and she hadn't eaten anything yet. Good God, why did there always have to be a distraction? She sits down on the edge of the break room table and scowls at Grissom. 

"We need to talk." She glanced at Greg again, who was now deep in the woods of confusion. "Alone." She diverted her steely, ice-cold gaze back to Grissom who quickly stood up. 

"Alright. My office?"

"Yeah, whatever." Allie let Grissom go ahead of her purely so as she could wink at Greg. He smiled and went back to his baguette. In Grissom's office, Allie plopped down on the chair and sighed as she did. It was a sigh of exasperation and one that she wanted him to hear. "Alright, you. You have some serious making up to do." Grissom took his glasses off and thought hard. Allie scoffed and shook her head. "Have you got any idea what I might be talking about, Grissom? You know, in the least?" 

Grissom shook his head. He really didn't.

Allie frowned."Alright. Well, maybe you'd be interested to hear that your girlfriend, _Sara - _you remember her, was almost in my lab, in _tears _because of you. You forgot something."

Grissom cocked his head to the side. "What?"

Allie froze and stared him right in the eyes, all business. "Her birthday." Two words. Two words that sent Gilbert Grissom's heart right into his stomach. 

"Oh." Grissom's reply was simple, but he really couldn't fathom anything at the minute."And how does she feel about it?"

Allie stood up, barely able to restrain herself from reaching over the table, grabbing Grissom by the collar and slapping him silly. Stupid men. "How does she- Grissom, I already told you, man - she's angry, upset...jeez, as a woman," A woman who has respect for her female elders that confide in her and ask, especially, for her help. "I have a right to bitch-slap you here and now, but!" She held her index finger up, only just catching a glimpse of Nana Olaf's ring. "I'm not gonna do that. I'm going to give you advice, help you both out, like the good little DNA analyst that I am. Besides." She sat down. "I could do with a raise."

Grissom shot her a look that immediately yelled, 'whoa up there, Missy.'. "Go on." 

"Alright, maybe not..." She rolled her eyes and turned round, making sure no one was around."Anyway, I think you two have some serious issues going on here. Sara and me, we had a talk the other day, in the locker room. And, uh," Allie scratched the side of her head, disbelievingly. "She says you don't buy her anything, you rarely tell her you love her and...well, I kinda get the impression, Griss, that you don't pay her enough attention. None of my business, I know, but..." Allie sighed as she finished her statement."Here's what I think you should do about it." She leant forward, hoping she sounded wise beyond her years. "Alright, now I know you've got a lot of work commitments and all, but I really do _not_ wanna hear about it. Sara's what's most important in your life right now, and you have _got_ to get that into your, uh, head." Allie mentally slapped herself for almost using the word 'huge' before head.After all, _she_ wasn't _that_ annoyed. 

Grissom sat back, gnawing on the leg of his glasses. "Okay." Everything Allie was saying was really sinking in, and he was _sure_ he wouldn't screw this one up. 

"First, you need to take a day or two off. Sara's got Thursday and Friday, so...anyway, but her something. Maybe not too expensive, but something that shows her that you care enough. Then, cook dinner for her. But, whatever you do, do _not_ ask for her help with said dinner. Then, sit...and talk. Sara said I was lucky to be able to chat with Greg, not at him." Allie examined Grissom's face as he stared intently at anything but Allie. He knew he was an absent-partner, but he did have reasons for it. Still didn't make him any less embarrassed. "But don't talk about work. Or anything too scientific. Flirt, too. Girls like boys that flirt." Well, _she_ did. "And...in the words of Otis Redding, you _must _try a little tenderness, okay? Do all those things I told you to and, you're set! Hopefully, the evening will progress and...I refuse to say anymore on the subject, cause you're like a father to me and I just cannot picture my own dad doing..." She shuddered. "_That_." 

Grissom half-smiled and looked down at the ground quickly before directing his gaze up to Allie's eyes."Than you, Allison. You think she's even speaking to me?"

Allie turned round and shot a gaze over to the lab, which was _just_ visible from Grissom's office. Sara was seated next to Hodges, glaring at something. She looked back at Grissom and stood up, smoothing her grey pencil-skirt down and playing with her very flattering, curve-hugging tee-shirt that Greg enjoyed so much. "Well, we'll soon see." And, with that, Allie flashed him a smile, sighed, and headed back towards her lab where she opened the door and instantly flung her lab-coat on. She grinned at Sara and sat next to Hodges. "Right, Sidle. You owe me for the really nasty pictures in my head, you know. And...I think you're good to go, by the way." Allie glanced at Hodges. "Hi, you." 

Hodges frowned. "Do you mind? I'm trying to pull DNA from this very, very small sample of urine, so...wanna help?"

Allie glared at him for a few full seconds and then took a deep breath. "You know, you really are very unlikeable at times."

Hodges snapped his head from Allie to Sara. "You hear that, Sidle? I'm unlikeable, 'at times'. Not all the time, which means somewhere, I've got a heart of gold."

Sara ignored this and went right back to Allie. "Thank you...very much, Allie."

Allie nodded. "Hope it helps." 

Sara smiled and started for the door. "So do I." And then she left, mind full of both hopes and worries. 

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Later on, Allie headed over to Frank and Dylan's house that had since been taken over by Bonnie and Carl.It showed, too. There were more plants around the place - although, that could've been Frank - and there was definitely a different feeling to the place. Not a bad feeling, but more clipped, more organized.Frank and Dylan always made the place a mess, but it always came down to Frank cleaning everything up for a day. Come to think of it, Dylan was a little..._selfish_. Sure, he was Allie's brother, but that didn't mean he wasn't a lazy ass at times. She knocked on the door once, twice...six times in a certain order, so as they all knew it was her. Greg was behind her, after deciding he'd come along for moral support. More than likely, he wanted to make sure _everyone_ saw the new car.Allie rolled her eyes and folded her arms as Bonnie sauntered to the door in a leopard-print dress that showed just a bit too much of everything. Greg turned round and immediately wished that he hadn't.Allie's mouth fell open as she surveyed her parent. Not good..not good at all. And this was the woman that had been trying so desperately to get her to buy a red dress.

"Whoa..." Greg muttered to himself, wanting to take his eyeballs out and scouring them with a metal brush. Allie stifled a laugh and muttered a hello. 

"Hello, Allie! And Gregory, dear, how are you?" Bonnie took hold of the two of them and pulled them into the house.

"Good." Allie squeaked."Uh, mom, could you _please_ put a sweater on? You're making me absolutely freezing!" Better to lie than to subject either herself or Greg to..._that_. 

Bonnie laughed and grabbed a sweater from the bannister of the stairs and quickly slipped it on, but _refused_ to zip it up. Yikes. "There. Better?"

Greg swallowed. "Barely."

And then they headed inside with Bonnie explaining to the two of them how she was planning to have a re-paint and how useful Dylan and Frank would be to the re-decoration.

And all that went through Allie's head was: Good, God...this was gonna take forever and a week to resolve. 

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**A/N: Hola! **

**Okay, firstly: So sorry for the length of this chapter! So long! And that's, uh, 3, 915 words **_**approx**_**...deserves a few reviews, don't you think? Anyways...if you guys haven't seen the Pizza Angel song/fanvideo thing of Greg and Sara - even if you don't ship Sandle, it's still a delight! - you MUST watch it, cause it is fabulous! Very funny.And I kinda like Sandle now, for some weird-assed reason. Must be because they have their own cute li'l moments. Like the Straightedge thing. The whole episode of Iced. Ahh, cuteness - Squee... Sorry, that was a rant right there! **

**I thought I'd better put a bit of Allie's family into the mix, cause I've noticed, with this fic it's pretty much been all Greg and Allie. So, I think The Others need a tiny bit of screen time. Besides, I secretly adore Frank. He rocks! Not overly keen on Dylan, though. That's why I broke his leg and sent him off to Miami the first time around. Ahem... Oh, and the GSR thing was bugging me, too, so I wrote in a bit of that. Happy days! I am on a roll! And this was meant to be angsty, too. Ah, well. Guess I've lost my angsty-fingers. Jeez, I actually think I might get 4, 000 words in here in total! Uber!**

**Thanks to all the coolest reviewers in the world, ya'll are amazing!**

**Michelle: I know, it's weird, but I always have a desire to run into the first really cool house that I see! And there are quite a lot of them...**

**Danica: Spoon, LOL! Thanks! And you'd better update, and you'd better make Frankie and Greg get together, cause if you don't... !**

**Please read and review, because I really adore this chapter!**

**Have a great rest of the day,**

**JauntyChick**

**XOX - PS: 4, 150 words, woo! **


	30. Chapter TwentyNine

Chapter Twenty-Nine:

XD-XD-XD-XD-XD-XD-XD-XD

All in all, it really never took long to work out the family's troubles. Dylan had a major rant on Bonnie _and_ Carl, who both agreed that they'd take it easy around the house and stop poking into everyone else's business. And Frank! Well, Frank James Driver...never had Allie seen such a dramatic change in a person over the course of a few weeks than she had in Frank. He had started to wear sweater-vests and clothes that made him look more mature, even though he was still such a slight-built person and he had ceased dying his hair black, so it was returning to it's previous shade of dynamic blonde. Dynamic, and it gave him a sort of Edward Norton-esque look about him. He still had his fringe, though, something he decided he couldn't live without just yet. Dylan decided he would continue wearing black, but he had never dyed his hair. After many hours of wailing and gnashing of teeth, Dylan decided he'd content himself and settle down if everyone could give him peace. He said he was happy that his mom was near him and in his life, and she was content with Carl, but he didn't want her _in_ his life and _in_ his business. Carl was blissfully unaware - as usual - about everything, Bonnie felt terribly guilty about the whole situation, but she couldn't get her head around the fact that Dylan was hanging around with a prostitute. Even Frank couldn't get over it in a hurry. Then Bonnie started about the wedding. This was the first time Greg had been exposed to such ramblings, and he instantly felt very sorry for Allie. He could only have imagined what it was like searching for a dress with Bonnie, Susie _and_ Aunt Greta. Frank then walked Allie and Greg out to the car.

"Hot ride, Sanders. Allie picked well, I see." Frank clutched his hands together behind his back and smiled. Allie looked down at the ground and leant against the car. Oho, she knew the car was a keeper. Perhaps she had thought on the Dodge for her own satisfaction; sitting outside pretending to be one of the Dukes of Hazzard gang. But not Daisy. Greg grinned.

"Dude, you _have_ to see the gear-stick. And the stereo. Ohh, the revs! Wait 'til you see..." And then Greg rambled on for a few moments about the car, at which point Allie tuned right out, sauntering over to the side of the garden. She suddenly remembered this used to be her house. She perched down next to Frederick, the gnome and smiled to herself. She heard Greg calling her and she quickly snapped upright and grinned.

"Yeah, sorry. You've still got the gnome, Frank! I'm shocked!" Allie threw her hands up and then stuffed them into her pocket. Frank momentarily furrowed his brows, but then he snapped his fingers.

"Frederick! Yeah, I just...I couldn't fling him, so he stayed." Frank smiled and glanced down at the ground. Greg put his arm around Allie's waist protectively and smiled. Allie swallowed and chose to ignore, blatantly, the butterflies in her lower stomach that just ascended upwards to her throat. Good Lord...

"You never told me you liked gnomes..." He eyed her curiously. Allie smiled and shook her head. Quite the opposite, in fact.

"I hate them. That's probably why he's still here. Isn't it, Frank?" She folded her arms and arched her eyebrow. Frank looked down at the ground again and bobbed his head from side to side.

"Yeah, probably. Anyway, I'd better go back and make sure it hasn't turned into world war three in there, or some such other catastrophe." Frank rubbed his two palms together and glanced around him, nervously. He wasn't usually a nervous type of person. A certain someone had a tendency to do that to him. "Night, Allie, bye, Greg." He finally detached his hands and waved them off.

"Take it easy." Greg and Allie said, once again in unison. Greg shook his head and smiled, and Allie rolled her eyes. They were getting too damned similar for their own use. One could almost read the other's mind. Maybe she should try and not be as predictable.

"Yeah, I'm thinking you should get out more, Sanders." Allie frowned. Greg sidled up to her and nudged her so as she he launched nearer the car whilst also making a random squealing noise. He loved it when he made her do that. "Greg! That is not cool!"

"But you _love _it." He winked at her, cheekily, unaware of the spine-rippling-effect he had just had on her.

"Yeah." She rolled her eyes pointedly once more and sat down in the passenger seat of the Chevy. Greg turned on the radio and cleared his throat. They sat quietly for a few moments, and then Greg spoke up again, this time stating the obvious. Well, for _him_ it was obvious. Allie was apparently slow on this uptake.

"He's got a crush on you, you know." Greg stated, with a slight smile.

Allie, who had since been staring into space, daydreaming about one thing or the other - mainly Greg, and then Glen House...and that bedroom...then Greg, Glen House _and_ the bedroom, all at once, yikes! At this rate, her head would be completely frazzled by the time she turned thirty -, furrowed her brows briefly, wondering what in the world Greg was chatting about. "Who?"

"Pah!" Greg scoffed, laughing to himself. It was about as plain as day to everyone. "Who do you think?"

"I honestly haven't got a clue, but you must...who is it?" Allie grinned. She was beginning to enjoy this game. Greg stopped at a set of traffic lights and smiled at her. She really _was_ clueless.

"Frank!" Greg couldn't believe she never knew. It was pretty obvious, after all. He listens intently to her every word - much like Greg -, makes sure he does everything she asks before anyone else could get a chance - well, Greg was lazy, but if she asked _him_ then he would -, and then he'd get all nervy and anxious if she hugged him. Well...Greg _still_ did that one. "Jeez, Allie." He shook his head.

Allie frowned. "No, he doesn't...he's just..." She shrugged, hoping the words would come to her, but they never did. Words weren't kind to her like that, but they always returned to her after the event. That's why she kept 'the book'. "Nice, is all."

"Nice." Greg repeated, smiling. "Yeah, _real_ nice. Come on, Allie! He loves you!" He'd known it for about a year. Even Diane knew it. Dylan didn't really care. He knew Frank hadn't the gall to carry anything out. Especially not over a girl. Especially not over _Allie_. Dude, that was cradle-snatching and it would just be plain-old wrong!

"Yeah, cause I've known him since he was yay high." Allie held her hand up directly level with her knee. "Besides, he's too young!" Allie, opposite from Dylan, thought very highly of Frank, but had never even thought of anything like _that_.

Greg grinned at her, knowingly. "Face it, Moore...you've got yourself a toy-boy."

Allie rolled her eyes. There was no way that Frank thought of her in such a way. No way! Absolutely not... "You think?"

Greg nodded. "It's cute." There had once been a girl that lived next to him, who was _infatuated_ with Greg. She constantly called him, stared at him, asked _everyone_ in his family how he was today and would she ever get to see him because she really, really had to tell him all the day's events. Suddenly, though, she found Donald Stuart down the road, and that was the end of her and Greg. Never again did she speak to him, or even ask about him. He had to admit, it still hurt a little to know that someone could drop you like a hot potato.

Allie shook her head. It may have been many things, but cute wasn't one of them.

XD-XD-XD-XD-XD-XD-XD-XD

Allie frowned as she sat down at her desk a few days later. Those results couldn't be right...then again, she'd checked them over two different times, so they _had_ to be; they weren't wrong. She rolled her eyes and checked it over again, just to make sure. It had been a busy enough day, with Nick, Warrick and Catherine all individually demanding a particular set of results. Then of course Sara sauntered in and began sprouting a lot of information that Allie certainly could've lived without knowing. Seriously...what they did on their spare couple of days off was _none_ of Allie's business. She shuddered at the thought. Victor Smith walked past and frowned, suspicious bunch of files in his hand. Actually, that bunch of files had to be at least fourteen inches thick. That's when Allie twigged something was wrong. Victor almost _never_ frowned and carried files in his hand at the same time, and something big was about to go down whenever he did...

"Hey, Mr. Smith. What can I do for you?" Allie always tried her best t to joke around with Smith. Of course he gave off that happy-go-lucky look that made people want to run up and hug him, but really, he was damned-scary. He moved past Greg's usual seat and twirled it around in a circle. He then sighed heavily, and finally seated himself into Greg's old, hole-ridden chair. It practically died every time someone sat in it, emitting a little squeak as the not-so-light load of Victor Smith smashed down onto it. Allie sat forward and blinked. She was in trouble...she knew it! "Mr. Smith?"

"Allie...we have a little favour to ask you." Victor cleared his throat, elaborately, much in the same way he did everything else, up to and including _breathing_. "We, meaning myself and Gilbert." Gilbert. Allie inwardly giggled. She couldn't ever imagine calling Grissom by his first name - Gil - , never mind calling him _Gilbert_. She bit her lip and nodded, eyebrow arched in a curious manner.

"Alright, I'm listening..." By God, she _was_ listening. She suddenly wondered if she was too old, and about to get made redundant. Well, she wasn't going without a fight. The she remembered that she wasn't even twenty-nine yet. Happy days!

Victor frowned. "Mr. David Hanson, the guy who owns our fine little lab here...well, he demands that we hire another technician for the lab. Now, myself and Gilbert, we've said until we're _blue_ in the faces that we don't need another lab-rat, but did he listen? No. So, Gilbert asked me to ask you if you and Greg would take a look over these files for us. Now, we like Miss Jensen and Mr Devine, but it's all up to you."

Allie let her mouth fall open for a few seconds, purely stunned. New lab rat? All down to Allie and Greg? No way! Suddenly, her lips curved upwards. This was great...carte blanche to hire whoever they saw fit. "Get out!" She half-yelled, grinning wildly. Victor widened his eyes. "Vic-uh, Mr. Smith, this is great. Thank you very much, uh...wait, so...we have to interview all of these people?"

"Yes." He elongated the word, pleased that Allie was so happy about her new task. She nodded, taking the files from his arms. Jeez, there was a lot in there. At least, what, thirty?

"And when do these have to be done by?" She raised both eyebrows, checking over Mr. Jack Jameson's. He seemed to be very efficient, working in all kinds of places from grocery-stores to toll-booths, trying to put himself through college. BS in chemistry. Good catch.

Victor shrugged. He was tired, for once, and he really wished, deeply - more than anything -, that he could just take a nap on the sofa that resided in the break-room. Frankly, he didn't particularly care when Allie and Greg looked over the files...so long as he slept in the next hour or so. "Anytime, but you have to start interviewing on Friday." Friday...Friday...that was three days away.

"Great. Thank, Mr. Smith." She put the last file down and stacked them onto a nearby desk, making sure none of them fell over. Victor groaned.

"Please, dear, _call_ me Victor." He stood up and left, abruptly. Allie smiled and nodded, re-turning the radio on. It was 'The Dope Show', by Marilyn Manson and, oddly, she found herself enjoying it.

XD-XD-XD-XD-XD-XD-XD-XD

The next day, Allie and Greg finally had a day off together. It had been nine or ten days, but their shifts had returned to normal. Allie yawned and leant over the kitchen table after her shower. Greg had been sitting eating his breakfast, attempting to focus his bleary eyes on the book before him. It was all about the male-female relationships and how you should treat your lady. He practically knew it all, he decided, feeling smug with himself. She smiled, teasingly, and he couldn't help but glance up. A corner of his lips tugged Heaven-wards and suddenly he couldn't hold back the grin that attached itself to his face. After all these years knowing Allie, she was still attractive, and sometimes he wondered if he maybe flirted too much, and should his face _still_ feel as though it were on fire when she was in the locker room or the break-room with him...it was still like the early days of courtship for him. And her, too. He cocked his head to the side and inhaled.

"You're distracting me." He said, simply. Allie smiled and sat up on the table, legs crossed. Of course she _had_ to wear that damned pink-silk dressing-gown thing that she really liked. Greg liked it, too, which was a problem. It slid quickly off her knee as she folded one leg over the other, making it just that little bit harder for Greg to concentrate. The thought of the rest of that material falling off her shoulder, down her back, onto the ground, leaving a pale-pink pool on the floor...He exhaled sharply and blinked.

"That was kinda the point." Allie smiled and took the spoon from Greg's hand, munching merrily on the Cheerios. "Anyways...how would you..." She grinned. "Like to go cake-shopping?"

Greg reclaimed his spoon and furrowed his eyebrows, confusion engulfing his mind. Now, by his clock, there was at least another four months or so before the wedding. "Allie, you do know we're not getting married til December."

Allie nodded. "And the cake would just go mouldy. Unless we ate it first."

Allie bobbed her head forwards again and stood up, flattening down the dressing-gown.

"Yeah, but I mean...no harm to look, right?" She sat down opposite Greg and opened up the newspaper. He yawned and nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, but we'll need a hotel or something...caterer, flowers, cars...invitations." Greg named another few things off of the ever-expanding list of things they needed to do before they could actually say, 'I do'. Honestly, the thought almost made Allie faint. Greg seemed to take the Devil-may-care approach that got him through his whole life. Not that getting married wasn't worth it - because she couldn't think on one single thing she would rather be than Mrs. Allie Sanders - but because she thought they were fine and dandy the way they were. Greg thought so, too, but it was time they did something about their arrangements. He probably still carried around the extra-guilt that Papa Olaf had always held close, on account of getting Nana Olaf pregnant before they were married and _then_ getting them throw out of Norway. After all, that _was_ the reason why there were so many Hojems scattered throughout America. Aunt Greta once gave him a lecture about living in sin that scared the Hell right out of him. Bonnie had once said the exact same thing to Allie, but she took it all in her stride. Being in love and making sure that he was the right person for you, like her grandmother had told her, was what was important. And there wasn't a single person she loved more than Greg; and vice-versa.

"Yeah, yeah, whoa up, there..." She placed a hand on Greg's shoulder and laughed. "Take it easy." Allie felt a wave of cold over-take her and she pulled the dressing-gown closer to herself. "And you're right...we should probably check out a hotel first." She looked up at the ceiling and smiled. "I guess cake-shopping can wait..." Greg, seeming to sense what she was saying, grinned and stood up, leaving the half-empty bowl of cereal in his wake.

"I'll get my jacket!" He bounded into the bedroom, quick-smart. Allie rolled her eyes, amusedly. He really must've been serious about getting married...or about eating free-cake.

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**A/N: Hola!**

**Okay, I'd love to apologise for the really long wait in between this chapter and the last one - and are there really only three or four people reading this?? Not that I'm complaining, cause I really do love all my little reviewers...you guys are uber XD, but I do wish there were a few more people reviewing...ah, well! - but, it's my muse's fault! He went off on one over CSI Miami, and then I HAD to write a bit of that story down, so! Blame him!! Sorry about the abrupt ending here, but it's midnight and I am uber tired!! But, on the bright side, I do have about six-hundred words of chapter thirty written, so woo! Oh, and I'm thinking about getting a new lab-rat involved here, but he or she will be very nice this time, and not a skank. **

**Danica: GASP! Allie - a mother?? Whoa, not yet! I think her and Greg are a bit too much like kids themselves, LOL! Probably wouldn't be fair on their kid. And yes, they'd better get together soon in your story! **

**LovinGreg247: Aw, thanks! I much prefer Frank. And I hope you liked this chapter, it was kinda rushed. I have no idea where the smiley-faced boxers idea came from but it was fluffy, so! **

**Michelle: LOL, that's okay! We MUST speak on MSN sometime! I need scandal, LOL! Thanks, by the way...**

**Ashley: Thanks, stranger! I'm glad you're in love with it...sorry for the wait XD**

**To everyone else: Please, please review, because I would **_**adore**_** having as many reviews as Blossoms in the Dust! **

**Now, have a great rest of the day and I'm off to my bed...I am uber-tired so any mistakes are my own fault!**

**JauntyChick**

**XOX**


	31. Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty

**A/N: Timeline change...keep an eye out! And enjoy...sorry for the wait. You'll see why. **

Upon arriving at the cake-makers, Greg immediately pounced over to the thing that was covered in chocolate, all gooey and moist inside. Allie headed for the plain old madeira cake. She took her white jacket off and set it on the back of her chair. Her red blouse and light-blue jeans were warm enough for her, and she absolutely adored the red and black polka-dot-covered pumps that her feet fitted into, snugly. Greg had opted for a green shirt and light jeans. Allie had to secretly love his shoes, which were green and black sneakers. She had to admit, too, that the boy knew how to dress. He sat down next to her, eyes dancing merrily over to the large fruit cake that was loitering over at a nearby table. There was supposed to be a lady that came over with a large plate of samples. Frankly, he was beginning to get impatient about it. Allie tapped her fingers against the arm of her chair. Greg sighed and checked his watch. Allie rolled her eyes.

"Greg! Would you calm down! Seriously, it's only been four minutes." She checked her own watch. Although she wouldn't admit it - ever! -, she was hungry, and desperately in need of cake. Skipping breakfast wasn't very wise, but Allie was certain that it would be worth it. Suddenly, Martha, the cake-sample lady, sauntered over to the table as if by magic. She set the platter down in front of Allie and Greg and smiled, politely.

"Now, there are fifteen different types of cake here, there's madeira, fruit, chocolate, the usual, and then there are a few more..." Martha bit her lower lip, thinking on a word. "_Eccentric_ types. Banana and mint, vanilla...there are several different types of icing, too, but-" Martha was cut off mid-way through her speech by her beeper, and she had to frantically excuse herself, instructing Allie and Greg to go right on ahead. Needless to say, they did. Martha was right, there _were_ a lot of weird tastes in there.

"Mm! I like this one. We should go for it." Greg handed Allie the remains of a succulent slice of a plain fairy-cake with strawberry icing on the top of it. Allie swallowed the last of the sticky-toffee cake and smiled. This was now the fourth cake he's said that about.

"Babe, if it was up to you, we'd have them all." She popped Greg's cake into her mouth and winced. It was delicious. They tried out another few cakes, but none had been half as good as the one with the raisins, cherries and plain-icing. Greg had a secret soft-spot for the chocolate one, though. Allie tested out the last remaining cake on the plate; a Batterburg effort with a definite almond taste on the icing, and the world's fluffiest-textured sponge. She moaned and closed her eyes. That had to be, by far, the best thing she'd ever eaten. Greg eyed her curiously, and then his eyes travelled down to the cake.

"What's that, Al?" He asked, inching closer to Allie. Instantly, she pulled her hand towards herself. If she licked the cake, then it would be her own, right? Nah, Greg would probably attempt it anyway.

Allie swallowed and examined the piece of undeniable-sweetness in front of her. She loved Greg...adored him, in fact, but did she really want to lose that last little slice of amazingness? She moved forward, her conscience taking over, and handed Greg the cake. Instead of taking it off her and placing it atop his tongue in the conventional way, Greg lunged forward and took enclosed the cake _and _two of Allie's fingers in his mouth. Allie widened her eyes and shook her head. "Gregory Sanders!" She whispered, firmly. "We're in public, man!" She looked around, noticing the large volume of people waltzing around, trying out all sorts of cakes and such things, so she tried to sit as far back in her seat as possible, pulling Greg and his mouth, and wandering tongue, along with her. She blushed and shook her head again. Greg pulled back after a few moments and sat back farther into his chair, eyebrows raised. He looked thoroughly un-moved by the experience.

"Hm. That was good." He said, as nonchalantly as he could.

Allie arched her eyebrow and rolled her eyes. "Good? Just good." After all that, he only said it was good. Men.

Greg nodded. It was pretty amazing. "But I still like the one with the cherries." That was it...he'd made his mind up long ago. Allie rolled her eyes and surveyed the empty platter. She wouldn't have guessed that cake could be so filling, but here she was- stuffed to the gills.

"Well, seeing as it's Christmas, or will be Christmas by the time we get married, then we should have some of those cute little fairy-cake things. Maybe some madeira ones, chocolate ones-"

"Ones with cherries?" Greg arched an eyebrow. Allie nodded.

"I guess." She hadn't a clue why he was so insistent on cherries, but she could live with it, so she nodded. Martha came back a few moments later and smiled brightly. She clasped her hands together and cocked her head to the one side.

"Well? Any luck?" Most people chose the chocolate cake, and Martha sincerely hoped Allie and Greg wouldn't do the same. She wanted a challenge, after all.

Greg almost leapt out of his seat, explaining how much they liked all the cakes and how much they would _love_ to have lots of little cakes. "About two hundred." He said, finally. Allie opened her mouth to protest. They weren't having _that_ many guests. She never said anything, nor did she say anything about the venue he had picked out, too. It was massive. And, with the twenty-odd people they'd be inviting, it really wasn't worth it. Later on, Allie frowned at the ceiling above the bed. She sighed, heavily, and glanced over at Greg. He hadn't budged an inch, and neither had his squeezed-shut eyelids. She sighed again, trying to prove a point. Greg stirred and smiled. "What's up, Al?"

"Nothing's _up_, but...I'm thinking the church is too big for us. We've got, what, twelve people coming for the wedding? It'd be like a pea on a dumpling." She tried it the nonchalant way, but it didn't quite pan out for her.

Greg chuckled and shifted onto his side, trying to face Allie, even though his eyes remained shut. "Allie, baby...Dear, sweet, innocent, _naive-"_

"Get on with it, Sanders." Allie grinned, and Greg opened one eye.

"You're forgetting the Norwegian side of the family." He stated, simply enough. By the Norwegian side, he meant Papa Olaf's brothers, his mother's sisters - including Greta -, his - fourteen - cousins and, oh, God forbid he should even start talking about his father's family. There were sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles and random friends that thought they were family members. By the time Greg had explained all of this to Allie, she was now slightly enraged. All she had was her mom, her step-dad, her real dad, grandmother and her brother. Oh, and her long-lost uncle and his daughter. She rolled her eyes and rolled over onto her side, angrily pulling half of the covers with her. Greg widened his eyes and extended his mouth almost all the way down to his chin. He probably shouldn't have mentioned any of it. He shifted closer to her, smiled and put his arm around her waist. "Allie?"

"What?" Allie asked, sharply. She couldn't _believe_ Greg wanted to invite all those Norwegian relatives. For one thing, he hadn't seen or heard from them in at least three years. Secondly, what was wrong with a small, intimate gathering like they had first discussed? She felt Greg's breath against her back, and it momentarily pulled her out of her rage. But then she remembered that she was supposed to hate him.

"Are you mad at me?" He asked, half-heartedly trailing his lip along her shoulder. She shifted uncomfortably and sighed.

"Slightly, yes." That put a quick stop to his proceedings. He moved back, holding his head in his hands and arched one eyebrow. Allie half-smiled to herself.

"Why? What'd I do?" Greg still had a hand on her waist, but only in case she decided to turn round and slap him. Frankly, he wouldn't put it past her. Still, she remained silent. He shook her slightly. "Allie?" Silence ensued. She was blatantly giving him the cold shoulder. "Don't make me hug you."

Allie turned over onto her back and placed Greg's hand on her stomach. "You've got about thirty relatives. I have six. Seven, if you count Frank. I mean, I think it's cool and all, but...I had a thought, Greg." A damn good one, too. It had been nibbling at her all evening, but she didn't think Greg would agree with her. Greg cocked his head to the side, questioningly.

"Oh, yeah? What is it?" He was open to ideas, especially after the day's earlier events. He hadn't particularly enjoyed the wedding shopping, and he knew it'd only get worse. Allie opened her mouth to tell him, but once more that day, she halted herself.

"Nah, it's nothing. Go to sleep." Allie rolled over again, sighing contentedly. She would tell him tomorrow. Greg frowned and shifted closer to her again.

"Love you, Allie."

"Yeah, yeah..."

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Over the next two days, Alle and Greg had looked, extensively, through all the resumes and shortened their list down to four. Two girls, two boys. The day had finally come when they had to interview the newbies, and then of course they had to pick someone. Allie picked out a grey, fifties-style skirt and a pink blouse. Greg sat on the edge of the bed and folded his arms. He glanced at his watch, wondering why it only ever took him fifteen minutes to get ready, and yet Allie could take up to forty minutes. Pathetic. Allie checked herself out in the tall mirror, and arched her eyebrow.

"Hey, Greg? What do you think about this blouse? It's a bit...formal, isn't it? Yeah. I'll change it. Where's that stripy sweater?" She glided over to the wardrobe and pulled open a drawer, yanking out a long-sleeved black-and-white striped sweater and flung it next to Greg on the bed. He caught it and leant back. She pulled the pink garment off and threw it onto the floor, pulling on a green tank-top, and then stuck the sweater on over it. "Right. I'm done."

"Are you sure?" Greg raised his eyebrows. Allie smiled, nodded and moved over to him.

"Positive. Now, we're looking for someone highly-qualified, smart, not too cute, and one that likes music. Remember Joan from last year?" Joan had lasted about five hours in the lab. She was far too quiet, Hodges had scared her into thinking the place was haunted _and_ she refused to listen to Marilyn Manson, which would just never do. Greg sighed.

"How could I forget?" Greg hated her. She had pretty much blatantly ignored him and everyone else that wasn't Warrick. "Anyway, go forth!" He stood up and pushed Allie out of the door and all the way into the car.

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Allie sat back in her chair and shifted uncomfortably. She shuffled a few papers, a last-ditch attempt to feel business-like, and empowered. Greg was late, and she was pretty sure that the people they were supposed to be interviewing had arrived ten minutes ago. Honestly, that boy! She sat back once more and sighed. Greg flounced in and scrambled into his chair. He smiled brightly at Allie and finished buttoning up his shirt, and Allie noticed it was a completely different one than he had put on this morning.

"What was up with the other shirt?" She cocked her head to the side. Greg frowned.

"Some girl spilt coffee down it. Careless." He shrugged, and snatched the papers from Allie's grip. He had a quick glance over them. "Alright, we'll start with this guy first." He glanced at Allie and raised an eyebrow at her. Was he seriously expecting _her_ to go and bring the guy in? Apparently so. She stood up and fidgeted with her skirt again. In the corridor, the four odd-bods were sat around, fidgeting nervously. There was a short guy, blonde hair and blue eyes, but he looked as though he was hiding a secret; there was a short girl with bright red hair, and a Metallica shirt, and Allie knew she was a keeper; a tall brunette man with hazel eyes and a pot belly, who looked fairly decent; and another very skinny girl who was sat, twirling her hair around her finger, the very picture of boredom etched across her face. Allie rolled her eyes and cleared her throat.

"Hi, uh, which one of you is James McClaine?" Allie questioned, maintaining her tough-girl/businesswoman style. The brunette man stood up and grinned. Allie motioned for him to come on through, and he did. Allie shut the door behind herself and winked at Greg. Greg surveyed the man; he was attractive. Not any ordinary man attractive..._George Clooney_ attractive. Greg shifted at this thought and immediately took on a vehement dislike for the guy.

"Hi, I'm James." James extended his hand out to Greg, who studied it and then took a hold of it, hesitantly.

"Greg, Greg Sanders. Sit down." Greg glanced over at Allie and smiled, then turning to the sheet of paper in his hand. "So, you've got a BS in Chemistry. You do Phi Beta Kappa?"

James nodded. "Yeah, and I worked in New York for five years after I graduated. Just felt like a change of scenery, though, so."

Allie cleared her throat again. "And, uh, so you're well-qualified. What about your personality, James? Why should we pick _you_? What makes _you_ different from the other three people out in that corridor?"

James shifted. He'd never been interviewed like this before. People usually just asked him his age, his qualifications and when could he start. "Well, I'm funny, witty, intelligent..." He smiled at Allie, hoping to get a somewhat warm response. "Cute." This was only met with an eye-roll.

Allie shook her head. "And cocky, too." She nudged Greg, who was now in the process of sending James a major death-glare or two.

"What sort of music do you listen to, James?" He cocked his head to the side and squinted his eyes. James thought for a moment.

"Actually, I prefer to not listen to music when I'm working. I'm a movie buff. I go to the cinema nearly every night. You'd be welcome to come with..." Of course, when he said this, his eyes were focused directly upon Allie. Greg stood up and smiled.

"Thanks, Mr. McClaine. That'll be all. We'll call you." Greg almost pulled James out of his chair and shoved him back out into the corridor, giving him only a split-second to utter a goodbye. Allie sighed. He was a no-go area, with his cockiness and slight-arrogance. Greg returned to his seat a few moments later after asking one of the girls to come in. The skinny, bored, blonde came in, severe pout on her face.

"I'm Anna Black. These are my qualifications, as you can see, I'm perfectly equipt to do this job and I sincerely hope you overlook my hair." Anna stated, plainly. Greg and Allie exchanged a startled look and began reading over her resume. She certainly _was_ able to do the job. Allie smiled at her.

"So, Anna. Uh, tell us about yourself-"

"I was born in New York, I hated it, so I moved away. I like music, cats and dining out, I'm celibate and I hate people that are too competitive." Anna folded her arms. She wasn't really winning any points with Allie or Greg, so they quickly sent her away. Allie asked for the other girl to come in. She looked fun, and they expected good things of her. The girl cleared her throat.

"Hi, uh, I'm Monica Kessler. Nice to meet you both." She extended her hand out to Allie, and then Greg, who introduced themselves, already impressed with the fact that she had manners.

"Nice to meet you, too, Monica. Uh, we've read over your resume, and it says here you worked in Miami, under Horatio Caine. What did you think of it?" Allie blinked, handing Greg the other guy's resume. Monica flicked a strand of dyed-red hair out of her way and smiled.

"I really enjoyed it. Everyone was nice, and the work was great, but I just...I wanted something more, you know. This is the busiest lab in the country, after all. Besides, I attended a seminar once, and you guys were there. Miss Moore, I really loved your speech about safety in the workplace. And, Mr. Sanders, your piece about how to stay focused and inspired on the job really got to me. In a good way, of course."

Allie and Greg grinned at each other. They _had_ done a seminar once, about a year ago. The speeches were incredibly short, and to the point, but they never made complete fools of each other and everyone seemed to enjoy it. They hadn't done the usual formal, shirt-tucked-into-the-pants kind of speech; they'd gone with humour. Allie smiled once more. She really liked this girl. "I, uh, I see you like rock. You a fan of Manson?"

Monica nodded. "Some of it. I'm really getting into the new stuff, but I do like 'Rock is Dead'. Amazing song."

Greg laughed. "We like 'Heart Shaped Glasses', don't we, Al?" He was sure he'd heard Allie going around humming 'Mobscene' the other day, but he couldn't be sure.

Allie nodded. "We do indeed." They chatted easily for another ten minutes - longer than the first two interviews put together - and then Monica got a call from her boyfriend, informing her that there was an urgency at the apartment. Greg and Allie pretty much made their mind up completely, so they chatted very quickly to the last man standing; the blonde man. He was dry, without much of a sense of humour, but he was civil. They let him go, and began discussing Monica. "She's great, Greg. And she likes Marilyn Manson, so we're set! I say we call her."

"You call her. She liked you." Greg shifted forward and handed Allie the phone. She glanced at it nervously and picked it up, smashing in the numbers as quickly as she could, and then let her long, thin finger linger over the last button. She finally pressed it, and the number began ringing. After a few seconds, Monica picked up.

"**Hello?"** She greeted, quietly. Allie cleared her throat for the hundredth time that day.

"Hi, Monica? Yeah, it's Allie Moore here. Listen, myself and Greg had a chat and we think...well, we think you're the perfect man for the job. When can you start?"

There was a silence, then a gasp, then this: **"Oh, my gosh! Are you serious? George, I got the job! I got the job!" **Monica squealed excitedly and Allie could tell she was jumping up and down with joy. **"Oh, anytime at all, Miss Moore. I can start anytime you want!"**

Allie bit her lower lip and smiled at Greg, giving him a quick thumbs-up. "Well, is Wednesday okay? If you come in tomorrow I can show you the ropes, introduce you..."

"**Yeah, yeah, that would be amazing. Thank you so much. And tell Mr. Sanders the same. I have to go...but thanks again."**

"Not a problem. Bye." They said their last goodbye and clicked the phone call off. Greg arched his eyebrow in an inquisitive manner. "I think she's happy, Greg!"

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A week and a half later, there were quite a few arrangements made for the wedding; Greg had bought some suits - cheap ones, mind you, but they were black, and they did the trick. -, Allie had downloaded some vows and things from the internet, and the both of them had started doing a mix tape. Allie veto-ed everything that was too slow, and made sure he added a lot of up-tempo songs. She refused to let him put any Norwegian death-metal on there, but Sigur Ros had slipped in there. The invitations had been ordered, and Allie and Greg had finally decided on a cake. They agreed on almost everything, until it came to the Norwegian side of the family.

Then, there was the argument.

**A/N: Hi! Alright, I'm neglectful, I know! Sorry. But today, I've got the cold, and I had writer's block to go along with it! Anywho, this story will be done in about seven or eight chapters, so! Sorry, sorry, sorry!**

**Now, thanks to all my reviewers, you guys rule. Oh, and I have a new plot forming in my head, the other Greg/OC, and I have a name for the chick. It's a groovy name, a strange name...but I'm not gonna tell anyone what it is. **

**I'm also really gonna miss writing this, which is why I think I'm putting off writing any more of it! Ah, well. Please press Benjamin, down there at the bottom..he hasn't seen ANYONE for nearly two weeks, so! Oh, and Monica - I hope you liked your cameo :D**

**Have a brilliant day,**

**JauntyChick**

**XOX**


	32. Chapter ThirtyOne

Chapter Thirty-One

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Don't get Allie Moore wrong; she thought having a family around at your most urgent hour of need was a great thing, a highly important thing. She considered marriage a pretty urgent thing, too, so she got it. She did _not_, however, appreciate Greg's uncle's cousins, Darla and Jenny. They'd pretty much moved in with Allie and Greg for a few weeks, not even anywhere near close to the wedding. They were two, young, frivolous beings and Allie got _that_, too. But she didn't see how on earth it was in any way acceptable for them to bring random guys to the apartment at four in the morning. It was a miserable, rainy evening outside, so Allie and Greg pretty much bribed Darla and Jenny into going out and giving them some space. Allie cooked, Greg got a DVD and everything was going well..._too_ well. The film was good, the banter was enjoyable...until around one-thirty. Greg had told the two girls that the spare key would be outside the door, under a plant-pot. Darla and Jenny, though, had somehow fallen out with each other, went their own separate ways, texting Greg to tell him that they would be staying elsewhere for the evening. Allie almost danced with happiness when she found out. Of course, one or two things led to another and before they knew it, Allie and Greg had ended up on the couch, lips crashing frantically against one another, trying to get a chance to do what they hadn't done in two weeks, on account of Darla and Jenny. Allie had _just_ taken her pyjama shirt off to reveal a pink, dot-laden bra, when Darla stormed in, giggling about something with a short, brunette guy. Greg himself - who, at heart, was a prude, despite all of his bravado and innuendo - was outraged. He sent the guy away with a sore ear, and Allie had a chat with Darla.

"You told Greg that you and Jenny were staying at a hotel, Darla. This is _not_ a hotel. And, by the way, he was _not_ a bellhop. Have you got anything to say for yourself?" Allie frowned, arms folded, glaring at Darla over the coffee table. Darla shrugged and twisted a strand of dark hair around her finger.

"We saw the light wasn't on, so I told Jimmy it'd be alright." Darla glanced over at the door, eyeing up the man she had so recklessly discovered wandering around the Strip. Allie pulled her shirt tighter, having discovered that she _still_ hadn't re-buttoned it up.

"And what, pray tell, gave you that idea? 'Cause let me tell you, Missy, it is _not_ alright." Allie was almost yelling now, unable to control her rage. Two weeks of pent-up annoyance over two random chicks that didn't ever clean up after themselves, hardly used manners and stayed up playing the TV at unusually high-levels. Greg re-entered the room, hair as disheveled as a porcupine, frowning. He sidled up to Allie and mirrored her pose, arms folded, serious glare fixated on Darla. She rolled her eyes and stood up.

"Whatever, like you two are all innocence and light-"

"Hey, for your information, we have not done _anything_ since you guys arrived here, so excuse us for thinking we could just have some peace for a moment! Anyway, you said you were going to a hotel! We just assumed- oh, why am I even defending myself to _you_?" Allie raged, eyebrows almost meeting her eyelashes. Greg put an arm around her back, attempting to calm her down a little. Darla grunted.

"Whatever, I'm moving out, anyway. Do what you want." And then she sauntered into the bedroom in search of her suitcase. Allie continued mentally-ranting for a moment before she headed into her own bedroom. That was three times now that the two girls had done something like that. The first time; they ignored it, passing it off as a one-time thing. But Allie just couldn't handle it anymore. She plopped down onto the bed, throwing the pyjama-shirt across the room. Angrily, she pulled the blanket over herself and sighed. She heard the door slam outside and a few minutes later, she felt Greg's presence in the room. There was a sigh, and a removal of clothes, and then the crashing of body weight onto the mattress. Allie sighed again, heavily.

"You okay, Allie?" Greg asked, quietly, slipping an arm around her waist. She shifted against him slightly and nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine. _Goodnight_." She didn't want to say anything else on the subject, she just wanted to sleep. Her tone was ice-cold, and Greg knew there wasn't any point in saying anything else to her. Greg planted a kiss on her shoulder and she shifted again. "Goodnight, Greg." Her tone softened, but Greg got the message.

"Love you." He raised his eyebrows cautiously and Allie smiled to herself.

"I love you, too. But I _loathe _Darla."

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Now, Papa Olaf was a different matter. He offered to house as many people as he could fit into the three bedrooms in his own house, which was a lot. There were two months until the wedding, and Allie was unusually towered over with work. Even with Monica giving her a helping hand, she was still buried under. Greta had started making arrangements for a church, and Bonnie had gotten right in there with the invitations. Allie grudged every second of people, that weren't her and Greg, planning their wedding. For one thing, everyone knew Allie and Greg were paying; henceforth, everything was as expensive as it could be. Greg loathed the fact that everyone went to _him _for information. As if he knew what was going on! Allie sat on her hard chair and frowned. Monica was sat in front of her, bobbing her head along with the music.

"So, how are you today, Allie?" Monica had just gotten over the fact that Greg and Allie were an item, and they were getting married. Allie, of course, had invited her, just so as her side of the guest-list could be bumped up. Allie cocked her head to the side.

"I'm good...it's kinda busy in here, though. Have, uh, have you taken your break yet?" Allie raised her eyebrow and Monica nodded.

"I did. So, uh, tell me...you see your wedding?" Monica chopped the head off of a cotton swab and placed it into a tube before placing it into the GCMS. Allie smiled.

"Yeah, what about it, M?" Allie had decided that she couldn't be doing with a fellow-lab-rat calling her Miss Moore all the time, so she settled for Allison for a while, and suddenly Monica just, out of the complete blue, called her Allie. Monica switched her weight over onto her left foot, swallowing nervously.

"Well, I was just wondering...is there an option for a plus one?" Monica asked, in a not-so-subtle way. Allie knew that Monica and George were not serious, and they were now no more, so this was a perplexing subject. George was more like a brother to Monica, so she figured that it was better to quit while they were ahead. Allie nodded.

"Sure. I mean, I guess..." The more people, the better. "May I ask..._who_ this plus one is?" Allie asked, smiling foolishly. Monica subtly cocked her head towards the trace lab across the hall. Allie furrowed her brows and looked around. She couldn't see anyone in there but Hodges. And of course... "Hodges? David Hodges?" Allie widened her eyes. It couldn't be. Someone as nice as Monica wouldn't want to have any connections to _David Hodges_, of all people. Monica blushed and nodded.

"Yeah, kinda...I mean, he asked me out and...how could I say no?" She laughed, and Allie nodded. Obviously two months of working in the lab had rotted Monica's brain already.

"Okay. Sure!" Allie went back to her work, feeling a strange sensation of happiness for her colleagues. She knew Hodges needed a girl, but she'd never thought on Monica for the job. The rest of the day's work was fraught with difficulty, and when Allie returned home, she found three middle-aged women - none of whom she had ever laid eyes on before - sitting on the sofa, drinking coffee and laughing with Greg. Allie smiled and Greg sat back, eyes twinkling with merriment.

"Oh, hey! Ladies, this is my fiancé, Allie, and Allie, these _gorgeous_ young things are my cousins, Flora," Greg stood up, walked over to Allie and put his hand on her back, motioning to the freckle-faced lady on the end of the couch of about forty-three, who smiled and blinked, happily. They had each taken kindly to Greg's comment about them being 'gorgeous young things'. "This is Barb." He pointed to the stout woman in the middle, whose laughter-lines made Allie both love her and hate her all at the same time. "And this," He nodded toward the eldest lady at the end of the sofa who hadn't taken the grin off of her well-lined face since Allie stepped into the room. "This is Melody."

Allie grinned, taking her jacket off. "Hi there. Nice to meet you all." Greg sat down again and Allie did the same, a mountain of nerves building up in the pit of her stomach. These must have been distant cousins, because they didn't seem like the rest of the Norwegian clan that she'd met already.

"So, Allie, dear...tell us about yourself." Barb said after a few moments of comfortable silence, tilting her head to the side, curiously. "Greg told us a few things, but...we thought he was exaggerating about your looks!"

Allie glanced at Greg, who smiled and looked down at the ground. "Well, uh, what did he tell you?" Greg widened his eyes. He'd told them nothing but the straight-up truth; and it was all mushy and wrong.

Flora rushed in there, breathlessly explaining what they knew about Allie. "...he told us you met in the crime lab, and he told us that you were incredibly beautiful...and you hated him, too, he'd said. Did you hate him?"

Allie opened her mouth and quickly snapped it shut, just in case a hysteric laugh emitted from her. "I, uh, I didn't _hate_ him, but he really did annoy me. But...yeah. I didn't think I'd get married to him, we'll put it that way."

Flora and Barb giggled, yet Melody remained in the same position, with the same expression on her face, as she had when Allie entered the room. For some reason, she found it odd, disconcerting and just a dash infuriating. "And how did he propose?" Jeez, Flora was a nosey lady. Allie glanced over at him and nudged Greg slightly. He winced and looked away. Honestly, he couldn't handle more than one other relative at a time, so this was his idea of Hell.

"Actually, I sort of...found him out one night. We were out at Papa Olaf's house, and I eavesdropped. He told me I was perfect." Whenever she thought about it, it almost brought a tear of complete contentment to Allie's eyes. She quickly cleared her throat. "What about you three? Any of you married?"

The two ladies nodded, but Melody only smiled wider. Barb smiled, increasing the lines around her eyes. "Yes, twenty-two years this December. I'm pleased for you both that you're getting married at such a lovely time of the year. Oh, myself and Jack were married under an arch, and the snow!" Allie was surprised that Barb hadn't clasped her hands together and gazed up at the ceiling in awe to match the sparkle in her eyes. Flora cleared her throat.

"I've been married nineteen years. Late bloomer. I got married in May. It rained that morning, but, oh, can I ask...where are you planning on going for your honeymoon?"

Greg and Allie glanced at each other and shook their heads. "Yeah, we haven't-" They both started to talk, but halted each other mid-sentence.

"Uh..." Greg shook his head. "We're not doing that."

Allie smiled. "We decided that it was too much hassle." What with their jobs, and the fact that it would only result in ten-thousand questions from Sara, Bonnie and Monica that Allie really couldn't deal with. Once more, Allie's eyes returned to the set that were fixed on her. Melody. "What about you, Melody? You ever get yourself hitched?"

Melody, obviously confused as to why Allie was speaking directly to _her_, tilted her head to the side. Flora and Barb always thought that their sister hadn't taken the plunge, and they'd often wondered why. "Yes, I did. His name was Benjamin." Melody was, evidently, the eldest of the three sisters, and had obviously gone through a lot more than the other two, or so Allie felt. She was getting the same feeling from Melody as she got from her own grandmother. Warm and wise. "He was a quiet man, very knowledgeable. We met in the summer of sixty-one. I was fourteen. He was fifteen. We got on like a house on fire. From day one, I just knew we'd be together." Melody never minced her words, and she rarely went off on one about Benjamin. Flora and Barb eyed their sister curiously and so did Greg. Melody was gazing off into space, her brain flooded with happy, inconvenient memories. "He died, though, a year into the marriage." Flora and Barb eyed each other then, shocked out of their skin. They remembered Benjamin, but they couldn't remember what came of him. They also remembered the year Melody spent in Australia. And they remembered that, at around that time, Benjamin had gone away, too, but they never knew _where_ he went off to. And they certainly didn't know about the marriage part of the story. "It wasn't to be."

Allie swallowed, wishing she could sink back further into the couch and just hoping that it would swallow her up. "I'm sorry...I, uh, I shouldn't pry." She didn't even look up at Greg for fear that she would burst into tears. Greg smiled at Barb and Flora, offering the small plate of biscuits that lay on the table to them. They shook their heads, too shocked to contemplate eating anything, chocolate-covered or otherwise.

Melody smiled again, glad that Allie had brought the subject up. "Don't be stupid, Allison. If it wasn't for Gregory inviting us over, and meeting you, I might have forgotten all about him. I make a habit of not going to weddings since... But there was something about this one. I wanted to meet you, I suppose." Melody clasped her hands together. Allie nodded. She'd seen old black and white movies with those war-women that spoke in double-quick time, but she hadn't been aware that they actually existed. Melody definitely existed, however, and she definitely spoke just like them. Greg sunk back into his chair still keeping an eye on the other two women next to Melody. He hadn't a clue how he was supposed to follow up on that bombshell. She stood up suddenly and glided over to Allie's side, startling her out of her wits. "Allison, dear, have you got a balcony or something? I could do with some air."

Allie nodded, standing up as quickly as she could. "Yeah, just through the bedroom there..." She began to follow Melody, and cast a quick glance back at Greg, whose eyebrows were almost in his hair. Allie shrugged and followed Melody over onto the miniature balcony next to her and Greg's window. What surprised her the most was the undeniable silence that ensued. Allie didn't know how to fill it, and she didn't think that Melody would, and she was beginning to panic. "Uh, I'm really sorry about...well, for bringing up Benjamin. I didn't mean to upset you-"

"Oh, nevermind. My sisters might be shocked, though. They didn't know that I was married." Melody grinned, and Allie nodded. "Anyway, I wanted to speak to you..." She shifted slightly and primped the bottom of her hair. "When you're in love, you...you're supposed to feel as though a soiree of butterflies are invading your insides, and your heart feels like it's about to explode into a thousand pieces. Well, that's how I felt when I was with Benjamin. Tell me, do you feel like that with Gregory?"

Allie smiled. She was thankful that she did feel that way, otherwise she might've felt like an ass. "Yeah. I do. _Especially_ the butterflies..._thing_." She didn't know why she felt so stupid saying it, but she did, and she would now face the utter stigma of admitting that she turned into a large stick of butter, melting over Greg whenever she saw him. Horrifying, utterly horrifying. "Do you...do you still feel like that?"

Melody shrugged slightly, her dark-grey jaw-length hair glistening as she moved. "Only when I think of him. The problem is...once I think about him, I feel...lonely. As if my life just crumbled after he died." She sighed, heavily, but then regained her smile. "Now, I...I know it didn't. It flourished. But anyway, I just wanted to make sure you and Greg felt the same way about each other. You make him happy, Allie, I can see it plainly. Whatever you do, don't rush into children. Take your time. Don't put your marriage in front of your career. Never take no for an answer. And don't let him break your heart."

Allie nodded once more, although she didn't exactly know what Melody meant by 'don't let him break your heart'. She was sure Greg wouldn't, though. "I won't." She smiled and Melody patted her on the arm, headed back to her sisters. "Oh, hey, Melody?"

"Yes, dear?"

"I'm sorry for exposing you, too." Allie felt as though she had to apologise several hundred times before the guilt lifted away from her. Melody waved the thought away with a hand and walked back into the sitting room. That whole experience was surreal.

XDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXD

Later on that evening, Allie plopped down next to Greg on the bed and pulled the cover over herself. It was the first night in a long time that they had been completely alone in the apartment, and it was Heavenly. Sure, Allie had enjoyed Barb, Flora and Melody - albeit, she felt slightly freaked out by Melody and her wisdom -, but she needed to relax, and so did Greg. She sighed and smiled in his direction. He shifted closer to her and put a hand on her hip. _She_ moved closer to Greg and placed her head against his chest. The next thing she knew, she was standing on her knees and Greg was behind her, massaging her back, occasionally planting a kiss or two next to her neck, or her shoulder. She groaned.

"Ohh...right there...that's just...ohh..." Allie craned her neck to the side. She _loved_ Greg's hands. And she loved when he did this, which wasn't very often.

Greg smirked to himself. "So...how are you?" He asked, innocently enough. Allie frowned. She was fantastic. Never had she been happier in her life.

"I'm good, thanks. Why?" Truth be told, she hadn't spoken to him properly in a while, and she missed it.

Greg shrugged, increasing the pressure on Allie's shoulders. "I haven't really seen much of you in a while. I miss you, I guess." He mumbled, slipping one arm over Allie's stomach. She shivered and removed his hand from her neck, turning round to face him. "What's been happening with you?"

"Aw, you're sweet." She pulled Greg down next to her and began playing with his hair. "Alright...uh, what's been happening with me...well...not much. Oh, me and Monica! We're getting on great, and she can actually work the GCMS which is nice. My mom's trying her very best to stay out of Dylan's business, and Nick and Warrick are taking bets as to how long we'll be married. But they don't know that I know this, so it'll be a surprise when I kill 'em. Rufus snapped a tooth and...I'm really happy." Allie paused and smiled. "And there's this bed cover that we _need_. Yourself?"

Greg sighed. "I'm starting to think inviting all these random relatives was a mistake. Seriously, Al, they're killin' me! My mom's uncle wants me to wear a kilt, Allie. Which would be fine, if we were Scottish, but we're not, we're Norwegian. Norwegians don't wear kilts. And for some reason, Greta took my CD. Just came in and stole it from me. I want to _kill _Susie, and I can't understand why your mom keeps calling me to give me tips and hints and I just can't take it anymore!" Greg sighed again and shut his eyes. Allie widened her eyes, however, and placed a hand on his chest.

"Greg, baby...I'm sorry." This now had to be the hundred-and-first time she'd apologized that day. "I had no idea you were so...oh, you know what? This is ridiculous." Her heart had broken and her blood pressure had risen. She could handle her own stress, but seeing Greg like this just made her plain-old angry. "This whole wedding is a-it's a-a- torture! And a pain, and I really don't see why we can't just elope!" Allie's voice had risen, too, surprising Greg. "We're in Las Vegas, home of the wedding!"

They both paused for a second, and thought it over for a moment. "Actually..." Greg made an odd, derisive noise in the back of his throat. "That isn't a bad idea."

XDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXDXD

**A/N: Hola! Okay, that was awful, I know! Terrible, probably, but I wrote it in a hurry, so! **

**Thanks to my reviewers, and I'm sorry for the lack of Greg in this chapter, and they probably all sounded like raving lunatics, so I'm sorry! **

**Anyway, I have to run, but please, please, PLEASE, if anyone's reading this, please leave a review...press George! He gets lonely!!**

**Have a great day,**

**JauntyChick**

**XOX**

**PS: Monica, you rock! Michelle, I'll have to re-find my MSN password! Danica, LOL me, too! **

**Thanks to everyone else whom I may have - probably - forgotten!**


	33. Chapter ThirtyTwo

Chapter Thirty Two Alternative: **WARNING: Horrifically fluffy. Seriously, I could **_**not **_**help it!! It just churned itself out, in a fluffy kind of way and not once did I stop smiling at it! :D Enjoy!**

XDXDXDXD

**October 24****th****. **

That night, Greg and Allie had stayed up until five o' clock just talking to each other. It was surprising, but not one word was uttered about weddings. Of course, they had woken up feeling very groggy, and slightly irritable - Allie -, but they at least had managed to have quality time without someone breathing down their necks about cakes, or dresses. They returned to work the next morning having discussed - extensively - the elopement. Greg had it all thought out in his head, but he refused to tell Allie any of it. He had told her to get a dress, do her hair and meet him in the locker room after work, but she had desperately wanted her family there. Or, at the very least, Michelle, Frank and Dylan. Greg was determined that Olaf would be there, but the rest of his family probably wouldn't mind that much. Apart from his mother. He'd called the Church of Matrimony - a smaller scale of the Little White Chapel - and set a time of eight-twenty. That would be tons of time to get a few people together. Then he'd called a bakery, asked for a few cakes to be delivered to the apartment, which, thankfully, was as clean as possible. Allie had arranged for everyone to show up. Everyone meaning her mom and Carl - but not Eric, who informed her that he was skiing in Bulgaria, and wouldn't be able to make it, but he wished her and Greg all the best but quickly had to rush off before Jimmy Meade broke a limb -, her grandmother and Frank and Dylan. Greg decided that he'd invite a few of the Norwegian clan over to the apartment for cake and wine. They were a laid back bunch at the worst of times, so weddings weren't a bother. Greg called his parents, and Susie - who almost deafened him with her excited squeals - and finally Olaf, who was especially pleased. Thankfully, it was a slow enough day for crime, with everyone conveniently finishing off on their cases. Nick and Warrick were doing best man duties for Greg while Catherine, Sara, Michelle and Monica were all acting as bridesmaids for Allie. Allie scarpered into a glossy little shop known for it's fifties-style clothes and quickly grabbed a dress. Inexpensive, yet far nicer than any wedding dresses she'd tried on. Bonnie probably wouldn't be pleased, but Allie hardly gave it a thought. At the end of shift, she had called in the lab backup, in case she, Monica, Hodges _and_ Greg were all down at the same time with a major epidemic of flu or some such thing. Then there was the rush to get herself and Greg ready. He had gone to Olaf's house with Nick and Warrick, while Allie rushed to the apartment. Michelle had taken Monica away to buy a dress, and Catherine and Sara decided that they would hang back on things. One thing everyone noticed was that, while they were off, running around like blue-assed flies, Allie and Greg were incredibly calm. Greg had spent much of his time in Papa Olaf's house flicking through the music channels, and occasionally cracking little jokes to himself. He always thought that there was something great to be said for people that laughed at their own jokes; and he was one of them. Olaf had shaken his head many times at Greg during that day, yet he was glad to take his suit out of his wardrobe once more. At seven-thirty, everyone was getting a little bit tense, and the clock hands would _not_ move. Greg suddenly wondered if his hair was too spiked, or perhaps spiked too much? It was short, and he'd died it brown especially. Allie had spent thirty minutes working on a beehive-arrangement. She didn't know why she was so fascinated by the sixties-style of hair, but it was easy enough to do, and she looked just a little bit gorgeous, even by her own admission. Eight o clock rolled around and Greg and his family, Nick, Warrick, Grissom and a few of his cousins and other random people were gathered around the waiting room of the Church of Matrimony nervously. Allie was hidden away in the other reception room, frowning at herself in the mirror. Sara had given her an old necklace, and Catherine had given her a blue garter, Monica had given her a loan of a pair of shoes while Michelle bought her and Greg a voucher for the record store near the Strip. Allie had grinned and gone back to pacing. Sara sidled up to her and placed a hand on her shoulder. Allie had never seen Sara in a dress before, which was a bit strange for her. The three original bridesmaids had gone in their own dresses, while Monica opted for her own dark-purple number.

"You ready to go, Allie?" Sara asked, just praying that Allie wouldn't go mad and rant and rave about how Greg wasn't right for her and how she'd made such a huge mistake. Allie nodded in reply, almost mute with nerves. She wondered about Greg, and how he was holding up.

She imagined that he'd be sitting in a chair, tapping his fingers against the arm of said chair, hair spiked up in an unreasonable manner. She shivered for a second and then moved away from the mirror; she looked fine. "Yeah, I'm ready." Sara nodded and instructed everyone to head off into the other room, just in case Allie 'needed some more time'. Allie folded her arms, completely alone in the room. She doubled herself over and rolled her eyes. Why was there a pain? Actually, it wasn't a pain...it was more of a strange lumpy-feeling, as if there was a tree growing in her stomach. Yikes. She dashed over to the door and opened it, her shoes clicking against the tiled floor. There was a door across from her that she strongly suspected was the other reception room. She sighed and walked over to it. Oh, God. She'd only known Greg for three years. It's okay, it's nearly four years. What if he's a closet maniac? Nah, he'd never even raised his voice. Except that one time, at the TV. What if he just one day decided that he didn't love her anymore? Did he honestly, completely love her, wholly and unconditionally? Holy Moses. She couldn't stand to be attached to her brain any longer. She opened the door and stepped inside. Ah, yes, people. People that she knew, she loved. She smiled and stepped farther into the room. She eyed Greg near the other, _other_ door, looking as pale as a sheet. Everyone greeted her and he gingerly moved across to Greg. He arched an eyebrow and let his eyes travel over her body. She looked purely beautiful: wearing a white halter-neck dress with red polka-dots that clung to her attractively, accentuating every curve and groove; and a pair of startlingly-red shoes on her feet. Her shoulders were in full view. He knew she loved her shoulders. The dress cut off just above her knees, showing off a highly-attractive set of smooth legs. The thing that really startled him was her eyes. He didn't know what sort of kohl or eyeliner she'd used, but it was working, and her lips hadn't been touched with any trace of lipstick or gloss and yet he'd never felt more drawn to them in his life. He himself didn't look so bad, with his broad back covered in a pure-black suit-jacket, and his shirt left three buttons at the top undone. Allie was glad he hadn't worn a tie. He wasn't a tie sort of person. Everyone decided that they would wait for Allie and Greg in the actual ceremony-room. Greg glanced down at his feet and smiled, awkwardly.

"So..." He started, thoughts whirring around uselessly in his head. He'd been worried all day, whether or not he'd shown it publicly. He knew Olaf wouldn't have given him a hard time over it. Allie followed his gaze to the ground and then up again.

"Are you, uh, _positive_ about this, Greg? I mean, really?" Allie bit her lip, fully aware that they were on a time limit. She really hoped that the priest wasn't a complete cheese. On the other hand, it might be better. Greg stared at her, agape. He took a hold of her hand and smiled.

"Allie, I have never been more sure about _anything_ in my life." He fought off the urge to pull her into a hug. "We should probably..." He motioned to the door next to them. Allie smirked and nodded.

"Alright, then..." She opened the door and stepped in, Greg in tow. It was a large, white room, decorated with pink, and white and baby-blue flowers adorned almost every corner; the lighting was exceptional, and, as luck would have it, there was an arch next to the altar; there was eight rows of five hard, plastic chairs. Nearly all of them were taken up with people. At the altar, Catherine, Nick, Sara, Warrick, Monica, Frank and Michelle and Dylan were all stood next to each other, chattering amongst themselves. Greg grabbed hold of Allie's hand and walked up the aisle with her. On the left was Greg's family, with Barb and Flora and Melody, Olaf, Greta and a bunch of other extremely weird Hojems. On the right was Allie's clan, Bonnie and Carl, her grandmother and several other relatives. Hodges was on her side, too, and Antoinette, and Alistair Steadman, but not his weird dwarf-rocker friend. Allie smiled and started gnawing harder on her lip. After what seemed like years, they made their way up to the 'priest', a young-ish man, tall, brunette, with a kind smile and a dark suit. He clutched a book in his hands and suddenly Allie wondered how anybody could get married in a proper church when this was just as brilliant. Of course, nobody had said anything yet, not even the priest. Pastor. Reverend. Whatever he was.

"Alrighty, folks. We are gathered here today to witness the marriage of, Allison Moore and Gregory Sanders. That's you two, right?" Reverend Colin McNamara leant in and deepened his voice. "This is my first wedding. You'll have to bear with me." He rolled his eyes and returned to the book, clearing his throat nervously. Greg inwardly winced. Great, that was just what they needed. After a few moments of rambling on about love, and forgiveness - at which point Greg had to wonder who needed forgiveness - and a few other subjects, Reverend McNamara finally began the actual marriage-part. "Now, do you, Gregory Hojem Sanders take this, very beautiful woman, Allison Louise Moore to be your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health, til death parts you both?"

Greg smiled, thankful he'd changed the 'Cedric' to 'Hojem'. Not legally, of course, but in time... "I do." Oho, he definitely did. Allie smiled even wider as Greg squeezed her hand.

The Reverend nodded. Everything had been going incredibly well; no one had cried, or burst into hysterical laughter. "And you, Allison Louise Moore, do you take Gregory Hojem Sanders to be your lawfully wedded husband, in sickness and in health, until death parts you both?"

Allie grinned, eyes disappearing under her eyelashes. "Oh, yes...I _do_." She glanced at Greg quickly.

Reverend McNamara grinned and turned to Greg. "_Fantastic_...uh, you may now kiss the bride..."

He didn't have to tell Greg twice, and in an instant his lips were attached to Allie's lips, crashing under a tempest of emotions. She mentally grinned, wrapping her arms around Greg's neck. There was a noise, somewhat akin to clapping, but Allie and Greg blatantly ignored it, too wrapped up in each other to notice. They pulled apart and, after that, everything else was a hazy cloud of happiness. They, along with everyone that had attended the wedding, ended up at the apartment. It had been cleaned to within an inch of it's life, by God knows who, and there was extra-seating. There was a lot of talking, dancing and the cake was _fabulous_. Greg glided over to Allie, who had been inveigled in a very jaunty discussion with Olaf, and wrapped an arm around her. "Sorry, Gramps...I have to steal this one away for a few minutes, if it's okay with you. You know...matrimonial business and the like..."

Olaf nodded, smiling lopsidedly. Greg blinked and pulled Allie over to beside several highly-drunk people, dancing crazily in time to 'Love Is A Losing Game', by Amy Winehouse, the muse for Allie's hair. She lazily wrapped her arms around Greg, while he placed his hands on the very small of her back, and they shuffled along contentedly to the music. Allie rested her head on Greg's chest, and sighed.

"So, on a scale from one-to-ten, Mrs. Sanders, how much different do you feel - _right now_ - than you did, say, last night?" Greg twirled her out and pulled her back in. She giggled.

"Well, Mr. Sanders...I'm feeling great...and I actually do feel a teensy bit different. Maybe it's the wine, I don't know, but it's great. What about you?" Allie played with the collar of his shirt, eyes focused intently on Greg.

Greg shrugged. He was out-of-this-world happy, but not much different. The song in the background shifted to 'Crazy' by Aerosmith. "Nope...not at all." He spun Allie around and then grasped her tightly in a half-hug, half-dance-move. "I love you, though." More than he was able to admit. At least not with this many people around. Definitely not while Nick and Warrick were around.

Allie rolled her eyes, only just aware that she hadn't done it at all that day. "I love you, too."

Greg raised his eyebrows. "Three thousand cheesewheels?"

Allie considered this for a moment. "Ten-thousand nights of thunder, Gregory." Okay, so it was a song title, and it was practically _made_ of cheese, but hey, they were married now, they could do that. Greg shook his head, seemingly content with this answer. They stayed quiet for a few minutes, before Nick and Antoinette bumped into them. "Hey!" Allie practically slapped Nick on the arm. "How's it going?"

Antoinette grinned. "Great! Oh, Allie, it was a _wonderful_ wedding!" She chimed in her high-pitched Texan accent. Nick rolled his eyes at Greg.

"Thanks..." Allie was caught off guard by Greg spinning her away from him and pulling her in even closer than she had been previously. She glanced down at Antoinette's slightly swollen stomach. Antoinette caught her staring and smiled.

"We're four months along, thanks for not asking." She nudged Nick, who muttered to himself and smiled. Allie widened her eyes and engulfed Nick and Antoinette in a group-hug.

"Congratulations! Man, that's great." Allie went back to Greg, who made a mental note to mock Nick the next time he saw him on his own. After a while, everyone began to head back to their own houses, with the exception of very-close family. Monica and Michelle thanked Allie profusely, while Catherine and Sara had drank more than their fair share of alcohol, and had mostly stumbled over their words with laughter. Greg and Allie said goodbye to the very last of their very-jolly and majorly-inebriated guests. The evening had gone tremendously well and there was, like little presents sent directly from Heaven, three slices of cake left. Allie grinned and sat down next to Greg at the table, idly kicking her shoes off in the process. Greg was already at the table, chomping away on said leftover cake. Allie rolled her eyes once more and pulled her chair over to him, leaving him with only two inches of leg-room to himself.

"You know, this is actually _nicer_ than the fancy stuff..." Greg muttered in between bites. Allie absent-mindedly glanced at the clock. It was just after three in the morning. No one had made a fuss, everyone left in a good mood and Allie couldn't remember a time when she'd been happier.

"Mm..." Allie shifted closer to Greg and practically took the slice of cake out of his hand and set it back down onto the plate. "I, uh...I'm goin' to bed...just so as you...you know..._know_..." She stood up and walked over to the bedroom door, flicking on the stereo as she went, smiling wickedly.

XDXDXDXD

A while later, they'd just about made it to the bed, under a frantic haze of passion. Allie groaned as Greg slowly - _torturously_ - pulled down the zipper of her dress, kissing along the nape of her neck. She'd turned round, pulled the dress over her head and locked lips with him once more. He squeezed his eyes shut and let his hands roam down her back, up again, to her neck and then they somehow found their way onto her legs. Allie pushed him onto his back and began to kiss along his jaw line, then down to his neck...with every touch, each and every single nerve ending in their bodies felt as though they were on fire and their pulses echoed throughout them with every move they made. Allie's heart pounded in her throat as Greg ran his mouth over her shoulder, stopping at her collarbone, and his breath caught each time she ran her fingers under his ears, every groan became louder by the second and every minute felt longer than the one before it. Then there was the scents. Her hair, his cologne. They both knew that they were secretly being driven crazy by every waft of the everyday smells that had never been so intoxicating. Greg would never, _ever _be able to comprehend the fact that she was able to make him forget his own _name_, let alone care about whatever else was going on in the world. After an couple of hours or so of intense, ahem, action, Greg rolled over next to Allie and pulled her closer to him. She sighed happily and placed her hand on his chest. She rubbed her leg against his and nuzzled her head into her neck. Greg shifted slightly, utterly shattered. They definitely _did_ feel different now that they were married, but it was a good different. Not like a bad Harlequin romance, but there was a deeper sense of love, and contentment...

And nothing would ever be the same.

XDXDXDXD

**A/N: Hola!**

**Alright, I have just smiled for an hour and a half straight!! Any mistakes are because I couldn't see the screen!! Amazing! That was so utterly cheesy, and awful that I actually think it might just have a chance at being brilliant!! Cheesy, but I love it, anyway. I wouldn't have rambled on so much in the above scene but I just could NOT bring myself to write the awful, sick-making word 'lovemaking'. Eugh, yuck, blech!! We'll just forget that whole thing ever happened and never speak of it again after this full stop. !**

**Oh, and no offence to Harlequin writers. I actually like Mills and Boons, but that's another matter. Oh, and I apologize for the lack of dialogue, but couples don't really get to chat to each other on their wedding day, do they?! Anyway. Everyone in my fic should be glad they didn't have to suffer what I did at my uncle Steve's wedding. I fell over and cracked my whole lip open. Very gnarly bruise, but incredibly impressive. **

**Thanks to all my amazing reviewers, Michelle, Monica, Danica, Anastasia Wolfe, Nikki and Feeldaforce, thank you, thank you, thank you for your patience and you general coolness. Everyone else: please review! And you get extra points if you use the word 'epic' in your review, LOL! Just kidding. **

**Only two more chapters...Jeez, I am gonna really, really miss this story! It's like one of my children!! **

**Have a great rest of the day,**

**Mary-Louise**

**XOX**


	34. Chapter ThirtyThree

Chapter Thirty-Three:

XDXDXDXD

Over the next twelve months, Allie and Greg could _not_ have been happier. They'd fixed up their apartment - painted, re-decorated it, re-furnished most of it - and decided that it was only a matter of time before they bought a house. Alistair from downstairs was most perturbed to hear about their leaving, but he wished them well and carried on about his business. Allie was on a constant lookout for a house while Greg decided he would take the great male procrastinator's approach and wait to see what came up. He'd started getting out in the field more and more frequently, while still managing to give Allie and Monica a hand whenever he had to. Ah, yes. Monica and Hodges. They'd gotten along swimmingly. So swimmingly, in fact, that they now shared an apartment as well as working together. And Monica and Michelle - two completely different personalities, different ages and seemingly nothing in common apart from Allie - had struck up quite the friendship, walking together nearly every evening. Allie often wondered about her weird, dysfunctional friends and how they managed to compose a near-sane persona for everyone to see and were they like that behind their own closed doors? Bonnie and Carl had managed three years together, Eric had dated endless women that all looked identical and had skied his way across the world...almost. Dylan and Frank both had their own jobs and Antoinette and Nick had a very young, very sweet baby boy, Bobby. Greg had hoped sincerely that Nick would at least _consider_ himfor a namesake, but no such luck. On his side of the family, Tallulah had learned to speak, and Greg had become her new favourite word. Olaf had taken up going for evening strolls with Allie's grandmother, and occasionally they played poker. It was platonic, not even remotely romantic. Even Allie and Greg had to admit that the friendship was too weird and convenient to consider. But at the same time...it was sweet. One night in April, Allie had taken the scenic route home on her way back from the lab. Of course the scenic route involved going past Glen House which she had lusted after for so long. She always slowed down on her way past it, admiring it and somehow picturing her and Greg sitting outside it drinking martinis, identical to the image she'd gotten as soon as she'd seen the house. As she drove past Glen House, she noted something that hadn't been there before. It shocked her, scared her and almost made her heart rise with happiness and plummet with despair all at once. A sign, right out near the small, white fence; For Sale. Allie immediately drove right up close to the house and rushed out of her car, her heels clacking noisily against the tarmac as she did so. The house was just as amazing as it had been the last time she'd driven out this way, almost four months ago. Roberta, the owner, hadn't done anything special, apart from trim the garden a little bit, take away some of the plants and interchange them. Before she knew it, Allie had once again stumbled randomly onto Roberta's doorstep, without a word of prompt or an invitation. She was somewhat glad that Greg hadn't been with her, because she just knew that he would call her crazy and tell her not to go near it. And yet, it couldn't have been more perfect. The timing, the feel - everything. Allie got up all of her gumption and her bravery and knocked on the door. She pulled her hand back as if she'd burnt it on an oven. A long, awful few moments later, Roberta appeared, much more glamorous and much happier-looking than she had been before. She felt better, too. No more moping, no more anything; She just wanted to sell up and move away.

Allie cleared her throat. Why was she here? "Hi." Did she have a proper, honest-to-God reason for being here? Now? "Uh, you probably don't remember me...I came here about a year-and-a-half ago..." That long? Incredible. It felt like last week to Allie.

Roberta smiled widely and placed her hands on her hip, eyes sparkling incredulously. "Allie Moore. I remember you." She had wondered how long it would take for Allie to notice the sign.

Allie grinned. Fantastic! That was a good start. "Oh, good. Actually, I'm Mrs. Sanders now, but..." She adored being able to tell people such a useless fact, flaunting it around randomly and she adored how it looked embroidered onto her new lab-coat.

Roberta smacked her hand against her leg. "You married Gregory!" Allie and Greg being the only people to have visited her in the few months after the separation had both lifted her, given her hope and stuck in her mind. "Congratulations. Where is he, anyway?"

Allie smiled and shrugged, lightly. The poor boy hadn't been well for two days, and it was starting to get to him. "Oh, he's at home. He's got the cold. I, uh, I saw the sign and I was wondering..."

"One-hundred thousand dollars." Roberta answered the question she suspected Allie would've asked. Natural reaction; see a house, picture yourself living in it and then ask the price, wait for your heart to break. "Quite reasonable, I think. Besides, it's too much space for me, and I would love to see a family living here. Have you got kids yet?"

Allie shook her head. Not so far. But there was still plenty of time for that. "Nope. Has there been much interest in it?" She mentally crossed her fingers. Less people, more of a chance for Allie and Greg to buy it as soon as possible.

Roberta thought for a second. "An old man, and a really young couple, but they don't seem like you and Greg. They were in the middle of an argument, and I don't think I'm interested in that kind of buyer."

Allie nodded this time. She understood. "So you're not exactly rushed off your feet..." She glanced around the garden. "I love what you've done with the garden. Is that an apple blossom?" She pointed to the enormous, elaborately-branched, pink-flowered tree behind her that towered over the house. She just _knew_ that it would be a fantastic view from the master bedroom. Roberta smirked and walked out onto the doorstep. Herself and Allie strode over to it, admiring it along the way.

"Yes. And there's a copper beach out the back that's as big as a skyscraper." Roberta pulled a flower off the apple-blossom and handed it to Allie. "Why don't you take another look around the house? See if you still like it."

Allie sighed and checked her watch. She felt a pang of guilt about leaving Greg for so long, but she also felt a distinct melancholy over not ever seeing inside the house again. Oh, even if she never _bought_ the house, she could still dream, couldn't she? "Yeah, sure." Why not? And so Allie found herself behind Roberta, walking into the two-storey house, now feeling despair over the fact that Greg wasn't here with her. He'd liked Glen House more than he had let on. Allie sauntered into the corridor, noticing the cool, breezy air that hit her as soon as she arrived. It was much more inexpensive than she'd always imagined it would be, and so much better than she could remember. She walked into the large sitting room; it was fairly amazing. And then the kitchen, the bathroom and then she went on upstairs. She checked out the two medium-sized bedrooms, the large-extra room, and then she stopped at the massive, drama-soaked master bedroom. She couldn't. She absolutely _couldn't_ go in there; it was like sacrilege to enter that room without Greg by her side. She turned on her heel and bounded back down the stairs to be greeted by Roberta in the kitchen.

Roberta turned to her and smiled. "Well? Any chance you could buy it for me?" She was hopeful, but not too hopeful. Allie probably wouldn't have the funds for a place like this. She was too young, Roberta thought.

Allie tilted her head to the side and sighed. "I love it. It's even better than I remember." She knew it would be. "So...I'm gonna talk to Greg about it." A big step that would probably lead to a 'no' and a shake of the head. Roberta nodded.

"Good luck, then. Anytime you want, you just come on over here and I can show you both around and we'll talk."

Allie left, unsure if she should be jumping with glee or crying with utter sadness. It all depended on Greg's answer.

XDXDXDXD

Allie rushed up the stairs, yelling a quick hello to Alistair Steadman and then continued on her merry way. She pulled her jacket off and opened her door. She found Greg sitting on the couch, frowning, arms folded, deep into the TV, ignoring the fact that he had a slight flu. He felt sick, his nose was blocked and his throat was killing him. He wanted to be able to cough, but for some reason he couldn't, so he just sat there, angry and irked. Allie dashed over to him and sat down. She had gone to the doctor and _she_ had gotten the flu-jag, unlike Greg, and now _he_ was the one paying for it. Typical. She smiled broadly and laid a hand on his arm.

"You will not believe where I was." She stated in a challenging manner. "Go on...guess." She had never told him about her sometimes-trips past Glen House for fear that he was call her weird and shake his head. He frowned deeply. He really wasn't in the mood. Allie bit her lip. "Oh...okay, Captain Buzzkill, I _was_ hoping for enthusiasm, but...Glen House. I drove past it, just spur of the moment, you know, and, uh, there's a For Sale sign and then I just _had_ to go on and then Roberta remembered us! I couldn't believe it. Anyway, I had another look around the house and Greg-Greg!" She looked up at the ceiling, eyebrows raised, eyes snapped shut. Greg smiled to himself, despite the fact that he was supposed to be enraged. Allie had cheered him up, somewhat. She grabbed onto his arm and looked him square in the eye. "It's gorgeous."

Greg swallowed. He remembered it well, and he just _knew_ Allie hadn't ever gotten over it. He himself wasn't too bothered where he lived, as long it was cosy, cheap and not too far away. "And you want me to look at it?"

Allie nodded. She very much liked that idea. Greg frowned. "Allie, I'm sick."

Allie rolled her eyes. "Not right now...but sometime. Greg, seriously, I have _never_, ever, seen a house nicer than that one. And I guess it's pretty cheap. And we can't live here...it's too small." She'd only been hearing Greg say the exact same thing for a year now. Greg folded his arms.

"Fine. We'll look at it. But don't set your heart on it." Too little, too late, Sanders. Allie leant forward and kissed him on the cheek, and Greg could only shake his head.

XDXDXDXDXDXDXDXD

A few days later, Greg had recovered from his man-flu. Allie had tried her best not to mention Glen House at all, try and keep the excitement to herself, and yet it continuously slipped out. Mostly during dinner, she noticed. Greg had gone out to visit Olaf one day, and Allie took it upon herself to examine the apartment, scoffing and tutting as she went. The rooms were small now, and she was sure that they had once been much larger. She flopped down onto the sofa; it wasn't half as comfortable as it had been. She walked into the bedroom. How on earth was anyone supposed to have sweet dreams in _there_? She shook her head and walked out of the sitting room, into the corridor and then out of the door, not really caring if someone came and stole everything in the place. She got into her car and slowly drove to Olaf's house. She liked this part of the world, too. It was peaceful, lazy, although there were far too many trees for her liking. Allie stopped at a set of traffic lights and switched the radio on. She had been wordlessly plotting out how Glen House would look if she were living there. She decided the sitting room would be beige, with a red carpet, some of that nice, light, Norwegian wood and maybe some paintings. The kitchen would be a strange, pale green, with little sparks of red here and there. There were three bedrooms, too, which could very easily come in useful. That master bedroom would have to be painted a less dramatic colour and the four poster bed! She adored that bed. All dramatic, curtains that you could pull over _and_ it looked incredibly cosy. She wondered if Greg had been having thoughts like these, or was she just the only crazy forward planner in Vegas? She parked outside Olaf's house and began walking up the drive, finally arriving at the door. She felt as though she'd been walking for hours on the large, steep drive. After a few moments of waiting, Greg opened the door, and grinned at Allie.

"Hey, you." He pulled her in by the hand and she kissed him on the cheek. He was pleased to see her, albeit a little bit perplexed. Usually he let her work away with vacuuming and cleaning and he went off to see Olaf and Greta. "What's up?"

Allie shrugged. "It's a nice day. I thought you, me..._Olaf_... we could go to, uh, Glen House. Have a look around." Surely that would win Greg over by a few points, if Olaf liked it. Greg looked like he was about to protest, and Allie held her hands up. "I know, I know...I shouldn't set my heart on it, and I'm not, but we _have_ to go and see it again, Greg. Even if you and Olaf hate it, I'll still need closure." She smiled and blinked, suggestively. Greg rolled his eyes and sauntered into the sitting room. Allie followed him, greeting Olaf with a wave and a smile.

"Uh, Grandpa...Allie has something to ask you." Greg moved Allie in front of him and placed his hands on her shoulders. She smiled and took a deep breath. Olaf folded his arms and cocked his head to the side. He had plenty of time for Allie, and they'd had several long discussions with and without Greg. She had a great sense of humour, and he had tons of old stories.

Allie cleared her throat. "Okay, about a year and a half ago, after Greg's birthday, we were out and about, driving along...and I found this house. Anywho, long story short, it's amazing and it's for sale, and you _have_ to come with us and check it out. You know...if you have the time." Greg, behind her, had let his hands roam down her back, squeezing her waist. It was thoroughly distracting. She nudged him and shook her head. He was going to be the death of her, she was sure. Olaf sighed and stood up.

"Alright. Better get my coat. Your grandmother and me, Allie, we're playing poker later." He groaned as he picked his dark jacket up off the back of his sofa. Greg picked up his sweater, put it on and zipped it up. Allie smiled.

"Yeah, she mentioned it to me. Says she had to admit that you're better than her, but I wasn't to tell you that." Allie's grandmother was really a fifteen year old stuck in the body of a nonagenarian. She was one of those rare people that were most likely to be immortal, if such a thing ever existed. She was fitter than Allie, ate healthier and could probably run faster. Olaf chuckled.

"That I am. Where did you say this house was?" He knew every nook and cranny in Las Vegas, and the rest of Nevada. Allie told him where it was and he nodded. Nice area. "Glen House?" He asked, knowing full well that he was right. Allie nodded. Greg cleared his throat and motioned for everyone to get out of the house, while Olaf explained to Allie the pros and cons of that area. Thankfully, most of it was highly-positive. They ambled along with Greg in the driving seat and Olaf next to him. Allie had previously surveyed the houses around Glen House, noting that a lot of them were proper families, none of them single or newlyweds. She texted Roberta beforehand and told her that she was bringing an extra person. About twenty minutes later, the three of them arrived on Roberta's doorstep, Allie nudging Greg whenever Olaf complimented something about the house. Once again, Roberta had shown them around the house, and the result was the same; Allie loved it, Greg really, really liked it and Olaf was enraptured. He advised Allie and Greg to go for it, throw caution to the wind and whatnot. Allie smiled knowingly at Greg and he folded his arms in despair. A week or so later, they had put an offer down of the house. Roberta said she would've been happy with ninety–four thousand- which Greg thought was thoroughly suspicious that she would just randomly knock a few grand off a perfectly good, really old house that was worth much more than ninety-four thousand. Nobody was _that_ generous - but Allie decided that no way was that happening, so she and Greg offered her two-thousand over the asking price. She accepted it pretty much straight away and everything began moving very quickly after that.

Roberta decided that she was moving out two weeks after the house was sold, and the contracts had been signed. Allie had the apartment packed up and ready to go in a scary-fast amount of time. Greg, of course, had procrastinated his way through the experience, only packing up his CDs, and the DVDs, and whatever other technical things that were needing to be done. They sold their part of the apartment and began moving everything out to Glen House. Alistair had despaired about them leaving, but quickly got over it when he found out that the new tenant was a woman. A very nice-looking woman that worked in a bookstore. Immediately, Allie asked Grissom for three days off, in a desperate attempt to get the house into shape. He gave her four days off and told her to take her time. She quickly began re-painting the rooms, with a little bit of help from Greg. He had planned to help her out, but crime had returned from it's hiatus, and Grissom was in dire need for extra help. Allie didn't mind, though; she was too busy moving furniture from here to there. The sitting room had been painted her ideal colour of cream, with a cherry-red pair of curtains and a matching carpet covered in squares of bright red, dark red and beige. She was shocked at how good she was at fixing up a house. The kitchen was white, and a very light green. The master bedroom - Allie's very own masterpiece - had two walls painted white and the other two walls painted a very light blue, with smatterings of red here and there, like candles and things. At the end of each day, she almost ended up asleep at the table. One evening, she rested her head against Greg's shoulder, eyes drifting shut. They'd been watching some random film, and Greg had started enthusing over this new case. It was a B&E, delving into the glamorous life of an old actress. Allie had played around with the short spikes of his hair and listened intently to him.

"The place looks great, by the way." He added, kissing her on top of her head. She sighed, happily, and nodded.

"Yeah, it's something." She was too tired to mention the fact that there were still a ton of boxes to be unpacked, everything had to be plugged in _and_ she didn't know how to use the oven. She snaked her arm around Greg's arm and yawned. "Greg...tell me to shift my ass."

Greg raised his eyebrows. "Allie, shift your ass." He nudged her and she groaned. She had work in the morning, and she had to locate a decent outfit suitable for a lab. She shifted forward and stretched. Greg felt a pang of guilt about not being there for her, helping her out. He shifted forward and in an instant he had her scooped up in his arms, on the way to the bedroom. She'd never been able to shift him out of that particular habit, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him onto the large, white-laden bed along with her. He groaned and shifted her up to her side of the bed. They were both entirely thankful for the four-poster bed, and it's flouncy curtains that gave them more privacy than they actually needed. It was like a tiny island in their room, for them, and only them, never to be interrupted by the messily energetic, frantic world outside. He sat her up, flashed her a smile and began unbuttoning her shirt.

"What _are_ you doing, Sanders?" Allie raised an eyebrow, her foot gingerly rubbing against the back of his leg. He shifted away from her, undoing the last button of her blouse before he whipped it from her and flung it on the floor. He pressed a gentle kiss against her collar bone and unbuttoned her jeans. She furrowed her eyebrows confusedly for a split-second before giving into whatever it was he was up to. She could hardly _complain_, could she?

"You, missy, work too hard." He threw her trousers onto the floor and started undoing his own shirt. "You need to take it easier, Allie." He pulled his own shirt off and pulled Allie towards him before wrapping it around her. She smiled at him and put her arms through the sleeves. "Chill...relax..." Once his trousers were discarded, he climbed in next to her and pulled her closer to him.

Allie rolled her half-shut eyes. "Since when did you turn into Bob Marley?" At this comment, Greg had to frown. He didn't get it, but before he could question it, Allie's eyes had drifted shut. Greg sighed and kissed her on the cheek.

**A/N: Hola! **

**Okay, only here for a second; thank you all SO much for the awesome reviews, they really made me uber-happy! I wanted to extend this chapter to five-thousand words, but that did NOT happen, LOL! Anywho, I've been **_**very**_** busy, what with our garden and all - I'm sunburnt today, very painful - sooo! Hope you all enjoy it! Ohh, and I LOVE this chapter, although, it's a bit speedy about things! **

**Have a fabulous day,**

**Mary-Lou**


	35. Chapter ThirtyFour

Chapter Thirty-Four:

**A/N: Angsty, but fluffy, too. Enjoy XD**

XDXDXDXD

A couple of months after the house was decorated to their tastes, Allie decided that she and Greg would start on the garden. Now, Las Vegas gardening weather is slightly different from everywhere-else-gardening-weather. After the first hour, Greg was sure he'd broken an arm. He wasn't used to all this hauling big chunks of mud around, and he was positive that after this week, he wouldn't ever attempt it again. Allie seemed to take to it like a duck to water. She hadn't once complained, or grumbled about anything. On the first day, she and Greg had ridden the place of weeds - Greg hated that job the most, he decided, and next year, he would consider employing someone to do it -, and the day after that, they had started pruning - which was even worse for Greg, who couldn't tell the difference between a live plant and a dead plant -, and Allie wondered how he had lived for twenty-nine years without learning a single iota about nature. On the third day, she'd gone a bit easier on Greg, yet she herself wasn't feeling strong enough to dig a hole in the middle of the front lawn. She'd gotten a nasty sun-burn the day before, and she had fallen asleep on Greg's shoulder every night that week. Greg, frankly, was concerned for her health. After getting shooed away for the hundredth time, he perched himself on the porch, keeping a steady eye on Allie and her extreme vigor when it came to digging holes. She practically threw the spade in and out of the large circle, groaning as she did. She finally gave up and flung the spade down on the ground. She had pulled her hair into a clasp, but half of it had fallen out, now lying limply across her neck. She was wearing an old pair of jeans - now covered in dirt - and a blue tank top. She wiped her forehead, cursing her hairdresser and her obsession with fringes. She eyed Greg, almost glaring at him.

"I hate Las Vegas." She frowned, folding her arms. Greg smiled, beckoning for her to come closer. She groaned and moved towards him before she plopped down at his side. He studied her red, angry-looking arms and, for a second, he was tempted to reach over and touch them, but he suspected that, at this moment in time, she wouldn't be too happy about that. "And you know, this would be _so_ much more enjoyable for _me _if you weren't wearing that top." She motioned to the light-blue top that he had on.

Greg grinned and teasingly ran a finger along the back of her neck. She shivered, despite the heat in the garden. "Mm, I know how you feel." Allie _adored _when Greg touched her on the back of her neck, or anywhere, for that matter, but today, she just couldn't concentrate. She felt sick, probably because of the heat, and she felt tired. Every single one of her muscles ached. Greg seemed to notice this, and placed a comforting hand on her knee. "I think we should give up for today. You need to take it-"

"Easy." Allie nodded. She'd heard Greg telling her this a lot over the years. And she loved him all the more for it. She smiled and stood up, taking Greg by the hand. "Alright, you...come on." Greg willingly walked around to the back of the garden with her, knowing exactly that she was headed for the nice, shaded area overlooking the copper beech tree. She sat down, lay back and rested her eyes, wordlessly. Greg felt a pang of concern about her. She sighed, contentedly, and yawned. "I'm thinking the garden looks perfect the way it is, Greg. We shouldn't stress ourselves out over it."

Greg arched an eyebrow. Allie was forever using the word 'we', when she actually meant 'me', or 'I'. "You're right." Allie swallowed and placed a hand on her arm. "And I think _we _should go _out_ for dinner." He cocked his head to the side and stood up again. "You up for it?"

Allie shrugged. "I'm...not so hungry." She frowned, deeply, and bolted upright. "I think I'm sick." She placed a hand on her forehead, but then discovered just _how_ pointless that particular exercise was. She was hot all over, after all. Greg felt a momentary rise of panic in his chest. Allie almost _never_ felt sick, and if she did, he never spoke of it until the eleventh hour. He shifted closer to her, examining her closely.

"What kind of sick?" Greg did _not_ like 'sick' of any kind. Nor did he like doctors.

"Like, _vomit_ sick, not...not flu sick..." She stood up, overwhelmed with nausea. "Oh, jeez." She sat back down again. Greg furrowed his brows together, his forehead shaded by the tall spikes above it. "Heatstroke. That's all it is. I'll be fine once I get inside." Allie waved her hand at the thought of any type of flu, gastric or otherwise. She stood up and staggered along into the house. Greg followed her, somewhat distressed by her mystery illness. This, of course, lasted longer than Allie had said it would. Two days after, while she was at work, the nausea had taken her over completely, and she found herself ending up in the bathroom on three different occasions during the day. She suddenly felt very irked by everyone and everything, and she really wished Hodges would just leave her alone. If he told her once more to take some aspirin, she was gonna take them and jam them directly up his-

She frowned. She usually liked Hodges, and she figured she was just infuriated by the intense vomiting. She pulled her hair away from her face and tied it up in a high-pony-tail. Greg had worried about her constantly over the past three days, which she found insanely adorable.

The door opened, and in walked Greg, eyebrow arched in a curious manner, small brown paper-bag in his hand. He smiled and waved. Allie felt her stomach constrict and her mouth just naturally turned upwards. He plopped the bag down in front of her and smiled. "Mints. Crackers. General other fun-stuff to soothe and aid an upset stomach." He pulled a chair over and sat down. Allie grinned and opened the bag.

"Oh, you _are_ sweet." She leant forward and ruffled his short, spike-laden hair. He'd dyed it dark again, and she was thankful. She opened the bag and pulled out the mints. "You rock, Greggo." She sat back and sighed.

"So...anything scandalous today, Al?" Greg picked up a magazine, studied it, and then discarded it. Allie shook her head. She decided that she wouldn't tell him about the sickness. Not yet, anyway.

"Nah, I'm just duplicating this DNA sample that Nick gave me. It's all good. Yourself?" Allie _loved _the way Greg so intricately re-counted his day to her, each detail more enthusiastic than the last one. Of course, she was guilty of doing that, too, at times. Whilst he was in the middle of giving her all the details, she felt as though some tiny, tiny person had invaded her stomach, pushing out everything that got in it's way. She placed a hand on her abdomen. Greg stopped talking - at last -, and furrowed his brows.

"Allie, are you okay?" He shifted closer to her and placed a hand full of concern on her knee. She frowned and nodded, wondering if she really meant it. She didn't _feel_ okay, and she didn't look okay. She looked pale, when she was usually healthily tanned; she looked and _felt _immensely tired, when she was generally energetic. "Maybe you should see a doctor or somebody..."

Allie groaned. "No. No, no, no..." She waved the thought away like an unwanted fly. She glanced up at Greg and smiled. "I'm good. Seriously, it's probably just some sort of gastric flu thing. Probably the heat." Now Greg _knew_ this was utter twaddle. It was Las Vegas, and Las Vegas in the middle of a heatwave, but he and Allie had been through such things before, and she'd never felt sick before. She smiled at him once more. "_But_...if, by tomorrow, I still feel bad, then I'll see a doctor for you, okay? Good. You want a cracker?"

XD - XD - XD - XD - XD - XD - XD

By the next morning, Allie felt even worse, if it was at all possible. She hobbled her way into the bathroom, evacuated her non-existent stomach-contents and hobbled her way back to the bed. She lay down next to Greg and sighed, heavily. She considered all types of diseases that she might have for a few moments and then placed a hand on her forehead. She glanced over at Greg and nudged him. He stirred for a second and then shifted closer to Allie, not once opening an eye, and pulled her against his chest. She rolled her eyes.

"Greg? Gregory, babe, wake up a second." Allie removed his arm from around her, somehow feeling that, should she leave it there, it might actually make a burnt impression on her stomach. Or she could explode...either way, it was far too hot for his arm to be anywhere near her. He frowned and opened one eye.

"Mm, Al...what's up?" It came out half-heartedly, like a mumble. Greg was tired. He really just wanted Allie to stay close to him and keep quiet for the next forty minutes, until he actually had to get up and out of bed. He noticed a slight glistening of Allie's cheeks, and her labored breathing. He sat up, pressed a hand to her forehead and frowned. "You're going to a doctor." With that stated, he shot up out of bed and readied himself. Allie, lethargically, stumbled along to the bathroom in an attempt to fix her hair, brush her teeth and do whatever else she could without collapsing. Greg bundled her into the car and almost burst himself from trying to get to the doctor as quickly as he could. Allie had tried her best to carry on a regular conversation without bursting into tears, or worrying Greg. About an hour and a half later, Allie was lying down on the little evil, black-leather, hard-as-nails bed in the doctor's office. She hated those beds, and she hated the awful, over-sized paper towel that they placed on top of it that always resulted in sliding off it. She had requested that Greg stayed outside, so as he wouldn't bombard the poor doctor with questions. The doctor in question was a short, blonde female with a friendly, warm face and a sunny disposition. Allie liked her...but frankly, she would've preferred being seen by Pendanski.

"Well, Mrs. Sanders, I'm pleased to tell you that you are now with child." Doctor Barton grinned, cradling a clip-board in her hands. "Congratulations." Allie wasn't sure if she had heard, or indeed _processed_, the information properly. She opened her mouth to speak, but words hadn't yet formed in her mind. She made a few noises that resembled a word, but the shock was just too much for her. Doctor Barton smiled, hoping to break the mind-numbing silence that had befell the room. "I take it this wasn't planned..."

Allie's eyebrows had raised right up, under her fringe, almost meeting her hairline. A baby? She wasn't read for a _baby. _She, herself, was a baby! Alright, she was twenty-eight-ish, but that didn't mean she was ready for a baby. And Greg-

Her heart sank directly into the very _depths_ of her stomach. She no longer felt nauseous, but she did feel awfully panicked. Greg. He _certainly_ wasn't ready. "No...it wasn't." A tear had somehow made it's way down her cheek, rolling off it and onto her hand. She looked down at it and blinked another one out of her eye. Doctor Barton seemed to feel pity for Allie, crossing the room to see her and to give her hand a gentle squeeze.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Melanie Barton had dealt with many cases like this, and usually the answer was 'yes'. Allie, however, really _didn't_ want to discuss anything with her. She wanted to climb back into her bed and sleep for another hour or two before speaking to anyone.

Allie shook her head. "No...no, thanks...uh, so...I'm okay? Apart from the, uh, the...the..." Even that one word terrified her, right down to her very soul.

"Baby?" Barton supplied. Allie was, by far, one of the strangest patients she'd had in a while.

"Yes!" She rubbed the side of her face, snapping her fingers, a smile somehow etching it's way onto her face. She was somehow slightly..._pleased_ about this baby? How was it even possible, to be scared and pleased all at once? "How far along am I?" She felt slightly more confident now, using words she'd only seen on TV.

Barton studied her sheet of paper again. "About a month. How long have you been suffering nausea?"

Allie shrugged. "Couple of days. Is that normal?" She wasn't a big fan of kids, and pregnant ladies tended to scare her more than they should. She'd heard about sufferers of Tokophobia, a fear of pregnancy, but she hadn't heard an official name for fear of pregnant women.

Barton nodded. "Yes, it's fine." She pushed a stand of golden hair behind her ear, biting nervously on her lip. She gave Allie several more hints and tips for pregnancy, told her to take iron tablets, stay away from caffeine - the usual. "Honey, tell me, is there still a _Mr. _Sanders?"

Allie laughed. She was in a rambling sort of mood. "Yep. His name's Greg, actually...he, uh...he's good with kids." Whether or not he wanted them was a completely different kettle of fish. So far, she'd gone through every single emotion in the last fifteen minutes; joy, angst, anger - although, that had more to do with the bed she was lying on rather than her body - and complete contentedness. Finally, after another long discussion with Barton, she got up and left the room. She found Greg in the waiting room, gazing worriedly at the wall in front of him. He'd spent the entire time sitting there, doing the exact same thing. He immediately stood up, eyebrows raised, arms open, ready to envelope Allie in a very tight hug. She smiled at him, throwing him right into a puddle of confusion.

"Well?" Greg maintained perfect eye-contact, but Allie's eyes darted across the room, slightly relieved but still more anxious than she should be. "What did she say?" He'd only spent the last two hours praying to the sweet Lord to let her be okay. "Are you okay?"

Allie grinned, standing up on her tiptoes to kiss Greg on the cheek. "I'm perfect." And pregnant, but she'd save that particular bit of information for later. "It's, uh...perfectly normal - this thing I've got."

Greg furrowed his brows. "What _have_ you got? Is it contagious?" Allie couldn't help but giggle at this. She hadn't heard about any male pregnancies for quite a while, but it seemed more than a tad impossible.

"No, Greg. It's not...I _hope_."

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Allie told Greg a week later, entirely unsure as to why she had procrastinated on it for so long. She'd sat him down, handed him a bar of chocolate, given him a full-blown kiss and just told him. She had wondered, considered, even, about what his reaction would be; he might go into a silent state of worry and fear, or he might be intensely pleased, or he might just do his usual Greg thing. She hadn't expected him to jump up off the couch, pull her up off the ground into his arms, kissing her with as much force as he could muster. He was pleased; how could he _not_ be?

As Frank Sinatra said, the best was yet to come.

Or was it?

**A/N: Hi! Okay, again, sorry!! I did mean for this to be much longer, but meh, I didn't want to keep you all waiting for ages and ages and, urgh! Anywho, I have a major plan for the next chapter, and it will be uber-angsty! But fluffy, too. I wrote most of this near midnight, so it'll not be my best work - sorry! I think it might be a bit **_**too**_** zippy-along and speedy...and I do **_**not**_** like the ending!**

**Ah, I've been gardening non-stop for weeks! I have sunburn, and I'm fading away to a wee stick, LOL!! And I have a very sore back, but everything looks class, and yes, my lawnmower is called Greg. Sad. Very, very sad, I know! **

**Please R&R, cause you know you want to!**

**Have a great rest of the day,**

**JauntyChick**

**PS: Squee! For episode 7.21 Big Shots. Amazing! **


	36. Chapter Thirty Five

Chapter Thirty-Five:** (A/N: Hi! WARNING: Super-mega angst-ridden. Uber-sad, slightly miserable, but there is one line that I **_**adore**_**! Ahem, anywho, it **_**will**_** get better, I promise!)**

About five weeks later, Allie didn't feel right. Sure, she'd felt fine for a while after leaving the doctor's office, but then things hadn't gotten any better, and, in the last few days she felt constantly nauseous, and she never felt as though she was getting half-enough sleep, and there was a weird pain in her abdomen. Greg had noticed, and he definitely wasn't pleased about it. In fact, he'd done nothing but check in on her constantly from the second she woke up to the moment she fell asleep. He really liked the idea of having a mini-Sanders running around, and, from what Allie had said, he'd be pretty good with a kid. He liked Tallulah, and babies were pretty cool, so long as they didn't cry too much. He'd spent several hours on the internet, checking up pregnancy, and, between the disgusting, gory-parts, and the things that could go wrong - those, he did _not_ want to hear about -, he barely learned one thing about it. He did know that, in her ninth week, she shouldn't be feeling pain. In any week, she shouldn't be feeling pain. While she was out, he'd paced the floor of the sitting room in Glen House. The phone was in his hand, and the doctor's number was dialled, but he had to hesitate on the little green phone that actually did the work. He flopped himself down on the sofa and sighed. If anything _was_ wrong, could he not just ignore it, wait and see if it got any better? Again, if something _was_ wrong, would Allie be alright? He sighed heavily and pressed the green phone. After a few rings, a woman picked up.

"Hello, this is Doctor Barton's office, who, may I ask, is calling?" The female sounded young, chirpy and ready to deal with anything thrown at her. Greg was glad. She'd be able to help, somehow.

"Uh, hi, this is Greg Sanders. My wife, Allie, uh, well...she's pregnant, nine weeks, and she isn't feeling too good. She feels constantly sick, and I don't think she's getting enough sleep..." Frankly, she hadn't told Greg much about it. She was doing her usual keeping-things-to-herself-and-worrying-the-Hell-out-of-him thing.

The line went oddly quiet at the other end. Then a click. "Please hold for one second, Sir." This concerned Greg. Surely if it wasn't anything to be worried about, the receptionist would make up some excuse for the doctor like they generally did. They wouldn't put you directly on hold and hand you over to the head honcho. He waited for another few moments until another female came onto the line.

"Hello, Greg? Greg, this is Doctor Barton. What's wrong with Allie?" Doctor Barton was barking into the phone, whilst also typing away on her computer. She was a powerful, scary lady. When she got going, and things _had_ to be done her way, or no way at all. Greg frowned, deeply. He didn't really appreciate her tone. Not at this precise minute, anyway.

"Uh, well, I'm not really sure..." He sighed. Damn Allie, and never again would he let her off the hook this easy whenever she started grumbling about illness. Now he felt like a total ass. "I think...she might have a pain."

Doctor Barton stopped typing. "_Might_ have a pain?" She sighed. "What kind of pain, and where do _you_ think it _might _be?" She hated time-wasters.

Greg groaned. "Well, I don't know, but look, this morning, she wouldn't eat anything, and last night-"Last night had worried him especially; every night, Allie pressed herself as close to Greg as she could for warmth, but last night she'd slept completely on her own side, curled up into a ball, almost unable to speak without there being a strange, high-pitch to her voice.

"Is she eating properly? Any signs of other illness? Spotting? Anything?"

Greg rolled his eyes, feeling as useless as he could. He didn't know; he didn't know anything.

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Allie frowned and groaned at the same time, glaring at the sandwich in front of her. She wasn't hungry, she felt woozy _and_ she had a pain. Again. This time it seemed to be a dull, throbbing pain right in the centre of her abdomen, whereas earlier it had just been an annoyance. She shifted in her seat; she went off to visit her mother, but the pain was too much for her to handle, so she settled for Diane Driver's house, which was _much_ closer. Since then, she'd been sat in a chair, blanket around her, cup of water in her hand. Diane frowned and sat in the chair opposite her.

"Where is the pain?" Diane, having had children of her own, tended to worry about these things for future-parents. She was incredibly fond of Allie, and Greg, for that matter, so pain plus pregnancy - not good. She leant towards Allie, forehead creased with worry. Allie smiled, weakly.

"It's fine. Really. I can barely even notice it." Allie swallowed. Of course she could notice it - it was all she could think about! She placed a hand on her stomach. She regretted, slightly, telling Diane about the pregnancy so early. No one else knew. She needed a subject-changer - ASAP. "Anyway, how's my man Frank?"

Diane sighed. "Lovesick, desperate to get a job, really talkative, and I really can't remember a time when he was ever as perky...especially since that 'Emo' faze, and the black hair-dye, and the loud-ish music. Well, in fairness, he did always turn it down...don't really think it was his 'scene'. Oh, and he's been talking Dylan into getting a job, too, so you're in luck. Anyway, he's fine, honey, but you're not. Have you told Greg about this?"

Allie glanced at her hand. She hadn't. "I didn't want him to worry about me." Even though, technically, that was one of his jobs. Suddenly, her whole stomach felt as though someone had just punched her. She never flinched, and she didn't say anything. Instead, she placed her cup on the coffee table and stood up, almost collapsing with the agony. "Listen, Diane, I, uh, I'd better go...look, we won't worry about it, just please don't tell Greg, okay?" After Diane agreed that she wouldn't tell a soul, Allie left quickly and drove off to Glen House. On her way there, she began to get somewhat frightened. This pain, whatever it was, was not easing up. She never suffered from cramps, and she didn't have an appendix to speak of, so it couldn't be anything along those lines. Oh, God. Maybe it was her spleen. She'd seen several documentaries involving spleenectomy-s. This would just be payback for her thinking on it as cool. A tear rolled down her cheek as she stood on her doorstep a few minutes later. She wiped it off and opened the door, reminding herself not to panic. Greg was sitting on the sofa, frowning at the TV screen. "Hi, Greg!" She managed to keep her voice as cheery as possible. "Oh, mad day, sorry, listen, I have to go to the...uh." She held a hand to her forehead. Why was she so dizzy? She looked awful, too, Greg noted. Her eyes were red, her mouth was contorted into a frown and she looked as though she'd not only _seen_ a ghost, but she'd married one, too.

Greg stood up wand walked over to her. "You're coming to the doctor-"

"No!" Not again, no way was she having Greg worry over something as menial as stomach-pains that probably only indicated constipation or something. She felt the room spinning, and the perspiration on the back of her neck, and the way her knees felt as though they could buckle underneath her at any given moment. This was it; she was definitely about to die. No more would she ever chat to Diane, or Frank, or her family, and no more Greg. She felt the tears somewhere behind her eyes, burning, but she didn't think that they would spill out in the way they were at that moment.

"Allie!" Greg placed a hand on her back and re-opened the door. "No arguments. Now, go." Allie never had a chance to 'go', because the next thing she knew, she was on the floor, and everything was black.

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Greg paced the room of the hospital; Allie had collapsed. She was running an extremely high-temperature, 103.2, and was yet to wake up. Greg had been walking back and forth for an hour or so, worried out of his mind. From what the doctors had said, things weren't looking bright or rosy. Things were looking bleak, and disastrous. Greg finally stopped walking and sat down in a chair. For one of the very few times in his life, he didn't actually know how he could go on. Usually, he had a drink, called his Mom and - although he'd only had her for four or five years - he'd confide in Allie and then he would be fine. Now, though, he didn't want a drink, he feared as though, should he call his mother, he'd only erupt into a fit of tears and of course, the latter was obvious. No Allie. If he didn't have Allie, what would he do? If he lost her, then what? He sighed, deeply, and let his head fall into his hands, eyes focused on the ground beneath him. He started remembering things, little moments from their entire relationship, that had been permanently etched onto his brain. This only made the fight that he was putting up to stop the tears threatening to spill from his eyes even harder. How could he go on when...

When everything was so bleak.

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The funny thing about memories was that once you started remembering, you couldn't stop them, or forget them again. Earlier on, Greg had cast his mind back to the day he had asked Allie to formally move in with him, instead of just crashing at his place every night and hen heading back to her's for 'real food'. She was so enthusiastic about the idea, and so worried about what her mother would think, and intensely scared about leaving two teenage boys to take care of her house. Greg had consistently told her not to worry, and helped ease her into his Devil-may-care attitude towards things. They'd had a large dinner, watched some random TV, and then Greg had lifted her up and carried her into his bed. The next morning, he woke up to her, wrapped up in the baby-blue sheets she'd picked out, pressed up tightly next to him, only wearing a slight smile and the two-heart-shaped necklace. He'd toyed with her hair, pressed random, exquisite kisses to her head, or wherever was nearest, and then he'd probably fallen asleep. But, and this was the thing that really annoyed Greg, she had said something to him when she woke up, and he could not for the life of him remember it. He sighed again, for the millionth time that hour and tried his very best to remember.

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Allie awoke to a pulsing in her head and a crushing pain in her stomach. She felt something similar to being put through a blender and then directly into a glass of despair. She frowned deeply, and tried to sit up. Oh, God. This was it. She _was_ dead, definitely. Absolutely no doubt about that. She sighed and glanced around the room. Funny, but Heaven or Hell looked a lot like a hospital room, which was both horrifying _and_ unpleasant. And where the Hell was that damned husband of hers? Shouldn't he be around, somewhere, even if she _was_ dead? There should be some sort of floating guardian angel in the form of Greg Sanders, aiding her and assisting her. But no. Just a stupid monitor, beeping away noisily, which she loathed. She groaned once more and this time, managed to sit up. She glanced down at herself and immediately it hit her; she had collapsed. She'd felt really bad, then she'd collapsed. Her mind immediately flashed onto the baby, and then she decided that she had to get up. When she tried, she discovered that she couldn't even find the energy to pull one leg out of the bed. A tear of extreme devastation rolled down her cheek, and she pressed the little red button on the remote next to her pillow.

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A while later, the nurse and doctor had left Allie, assuring her that they would send Greg in to her as soon as possible. Since then, the tears had been steady and fast, with no chance of stopping any time soon. She was sitting up, knees raised as close to her chest as she could get them, eyes red and her face blotchy. Her breathing had become slow, and in the last half an hour, she'd fallen hopelessly, completely, into a giant hole of sadness into the ground. She'd lost her baby. The one tiny fragment of herself and Greg, and she'd miscarried it. She felt stupid, and thoroughly helpless. She didn't even want to _think_ of Greg, because that only made it worse. She felt intensely hollow, and rough, as if she'd been dragged through the wars and back. She lay down on her side, curled up into a small, tight ball, crying into her pillow. No way was she jumping out of that hole in a hurry. A few minutes later, she heard the door behind her open and close, then a soft padding of feet coming towards her bed. There was a soft sigh, and then she felt pressure on the side of the bed next to her as Greg sat down. The next thing she knew, there was a perfect set of arms around her, and a hand to wipe away her tears.

XD - XD - XD - XD - XD - XD

Greg stayed close to Allie for the rest of the night, holding onto her, wiping away random tears, trying to fight off his own despair. The latter was by far the hardest thing he'd ever done in his life. Occasionally, she made small, soft noises through her tears, but neither of them spoke. Frankly, they weren't sure what of what to say to each other. Every second seemed more like a minute, and the room was so silent. Everything had gone still, the world had stopped. As Allie drifted off to sleep in the wee, small hours of the morning, Greg finally remembered what she'd said.

_I'm never leaving this place, Greggo. And I'm never leaving you, either.._.

And then she'd kissed him. It wasn't much. But at least he remember it. He pressed a kiss to the side of her face and continued to hold onto her, refusing to ever let go.

XD - XD - XD - XD - XD - XD

Allie got released a few days later, not once speaking to anyone that wasn't Greg. Dylan, Frank _and_ even Bonnie had called, checking in on her, thinking that it was a tad suspicious about her absence from their lives. The first moment she entered Glen House, she seemed to coil directly into herself. In the daytime, she cleaned everything - sometimes more than once, just out of pure absent-mindedness - and then headed into bed at midnight, unable to sleep until around six. Greg had just been there, hoping to help her through it, but when he tried to chat to her, she just waved it off, said she fine. She wasn't fine - far from it -, but she was coping, _just_. She was determined, however, that she would return to work as soon as possible. Greg had said no, but he knew she wouldn't listen to him. The week after that was spent in much the same way, except on Thursday, Allie managed to get back to the lab. Somehow, she couldn't get to grips with the fact that one minute, there was a tiny person inside her, and then there wasn't. She sat at her desk, working away with the GCMS and then Nick, Sara and Catherine walked in.

"Allie!" Nick grinned. "You're back...how're you feelin'?" A momentary flash of panic rose in Allie's chest.

How did Nick know? Nobody knew! Nobody even knew she'd been pregnant, nevermind the fact she'd lost it. "Uh...I-I, uh, I feel good, thanks, Nicky."

Catherine cleared her throat. "Greg told us you had a gastric flu. For a week and a half?" She looked, and felt, skeptical. Allie suddenly felt harassed, harangued and slightly infuriated. She loved the team with as much of her heart as she could, but she really didn't want to see them - or anyone else - until she felt ready.

Allie furrowed her eyebrows and picked up a magazine. "Yeah. It was, uh, rough. Anywho, I haven't got your results yet, so you can go back to whatever kind of...forensic thing you were at." Usually, she spent ages chattering to them, like Greg did when he was the lab-master, but today, she just couldn't. Catherine and Nick exchanged a surprised look, while Sara only frowned and smiled carefully at Allie before they all left. After that, Monica had been in, been her usual chirpy-self, while Hodges had harped on constantly about illness, and disease, and how he hoped Allie wasn't too contagious. Grissom, so far, had been the only person not to mention her absence, but he _had_ raised his voice over her putting-Catherine's-stuff-in-front-of-his like Greg had told her to. After a while, Greg sauntered in. He smiled at Allie and sat down next to her.

"Hey. How you doing?" He was being overly-protective, and he knew it, but Allie found it utterly sweet, and he just couldn't help it. However, it did little to pull her out of the hole. She was now ambling somewhere around the middle of the hole, whereas before she'd fallen fifty feet to the ground, so anywhere above there was great.

Allie smiled, feebly. She shrugged and blinked. Tears had become more frequent, but she tried her best for Greg. The whole experience had brought them even closer - as if it were possible - and they were definitely helping each other through it. "Everyone's asking me, Greg, and I don't know what to tell them."

Greg frowned. He inched closer and took Allie's hand. "Don't worry about it. They don't need to know if you don't want them to." Frankly, he didn't care what anyone thought, but he really didn't want anyone putting pressure on Allie. "Anyway, it's none of their business."

Allie nodded and cleared her throat. It was horrible, having to constantly remind herself that she was a strong woman, she didn't _need_ to cry but then - oh! Tears. She wiped them off and shook her head. "You'd better go, Greg. Grissom's on the war-path."

Greg sighed and stood up. He kissed Allie on the cheek and pulled her into a small hug. "I love you." He was still telling her this, every chance he could, and each time he meant it ever more than the last.

"I love you too, Greg." More than her words could describe.

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After a whole day with her thoughts, good, bad or indifferent, Allie felt marginally better. She had gone up a step or two in the hole by the end of her shift. Of course she would never be completely able to forget this experience, she could at least get a little bit of closure for it. Greg was slowly meandering towards closure as well, and Allie was thankful for it. Suddenly, Sara Sidle walked into the lab, after walking past several times with a curious glance in Allie's direction. She sighed and smiled, sitting down opposite Allie.

"Hello." She handed Allie a small pack of chocolate, obviously concerned for her. "So...uh, what's happening with you?" It was more of a '_what _is going on with you?' than just a friendly 'what's the scandal?'.

Allie smiled. "Not much, Sara. Take it you heard about the mystery illness of Allie Sanders, then, huh?" It was so easy for her just to slide into the Sanders surname. It was as if she'd been a Sanders her whole life. Sara nodded.

"It wasn't a gastric flu, was it, Allie?" Sara Sidle was too damned smart for her own good. She'd begun to suspect something was wrong with Allie a few weeks back, after she'd caught her leaving the bathroom looking all disheveled and haywire. There had definitely been something wrong.

Allie looked down at the floor. "No." She needed this. She needed to offload onto someone other than Greg for a change. The poor boy was probably ready to shoot himself, after seeing her fall asleep each night with a tear in her eye and a sob ready to be choked out. She glanced around the lab and pushed her chair closer to Sara. "I was pregnant, for about a minute, and then...a week and a half ago, I just...I miscarried it - I don't know why. Wasn't even listening to the doctor when she told me."

Sara tilted her head to the side and frowned. "I'm very sorry, Allie. Is there anything we can do for you?" Although they weren't the closest people in the Las Vegas Crime Lab, Allie and Sara had always had a very good understanding with each other.

Allie shook her head. "No...thanks. Just, don't tell anyone, okay? I just...I don't want them to know." Sara nodded at this. "Anyway, it's Greg I feel sorry for. He was just so..." Allie blinked and drew a deep breath. "Excited about it." Her heart almost broke in two each time she remembered the day she told Greg about the baby. Allie sighed and began to offload. And it felt good.

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A month after the incident, Allie and Greg both managed to find their closure. Allie had begun to laugh at Greg's jokes again, and, much to her happiness, Greg had started sleeping on top of her again. They had definitely conquered the hole, together _and_ apart. Allie refused to cry, and she felt much stronger, much more confident than before, even. She could talk again, without hesitation, and everything felt the same. There was always going to be the pang of sadness over the child that could have been, but wasn't _to_ be. Everything was going perfectly again, just like it should. Sara had become a lot more talkative towards Allie, and Grissom hadn't yelled at her at all since the two women had talked. Allie stretched out on the sofa one evening, Greg lying next to her, blanket wrapped around them. They _had_ been watching some random documentary that neither of them were interested in, and then they'd started talking and then Greg had taken Allie's hand, examining it carefully.

"Hey, Allie?" He asked, gingerly. Allie opened one eye and half-smiled to herself. He wanted something, more than likely. That was the little, innocent tone he always used whenever he wanted to head out with Nick, and Warrick. For some reason, he didn't like leaving Allie for the night.

"Yes, Gregory?"

"Could we, uh...could we try again?" He suddenly considered himself a very, very stupid man. After all, how was she supposed to know what the heck he was muttering about? There hadn't been any warning, or anything. Yet he somehow felt like he should continue. "You know...for a kid."

Allie grinned, widely. She knew he liked the idea of a mini-them swanning around the place, rolling it's eyes and playing with it's hair. "Okay. Anything you want." As if she was going to argue with him about it! She twisted round and pushed Greg onto his back and kissed him, one hand meandering up to his hair. "But you have to get a haircut first." She smiled and lay down on his chest, eyes drifting shut.

After that night, every attempt was pulled out to get Allie pregnant - secret rendezvous in the locker room/shower/anywhere at anytime that they could find to be together... -, but, for a few months, nothing seemed to be happening. The two of them found it odd, but they weren't too bothered.

After all, good things come to those who wait, right? Right.

XD - XD - XD - XD - XD - XD

**A/N: Hola! Sorry the a) the amazing amount of angst in this chapter, but once I got my angst-bubble back, I could **_**not**_** stop writing the stuff! The next chapter will be super-fluffy, though, I hope XD**

**And b) the strange way it was written! Never have I typed XD - XD so much in my whole life! I'm actually supremely impressed with this for a chapter, it isn't bad, and I really like the 'giant hole of sadness in the ground'. Kinda classic, LOL. God, I have a big head! **

**Thanks to all my reviewers, as always, I am forever in each of your debts! **

**Please press Benjamin, cause we just love him! And there's only two chapters left - didn't I say that five chapters or so ago, LOL?? - so get your name down there!**

**Have a brilliant rest of the day,**

**Mary-Lou**

**PS: Still gardening, got a really nice tan, went out to the library today, it was brilliant, managed to spike my hair up in a nice Eric-Szmanda-esque way. Very spiky. OH, OH, OH - Warrick!! How COULD they!? And there's a new girl on the team - according to my TV - , which'll be cool. As long as they don't even THINK about setting her up with my wee Greg. XD**


	37. Chapter ThirtySix

Chapter Thirty-Six:

Allie groaned and tried to free herself from the large weight on top of her. Oh, it was just Greg. She opened one eye and smiled, placing her hand on one of his shoulders. He was a skinny, skinny man, so why was he so intent on crushing her into the mattress? She placed her other hand on his side and shook him lightly. He stirred, quietly, letting his mouth fall from her ribs, to her stomach. She rolled her eyes at the non-stop fluttering of her insides and shook him harder this time.

"Hey, Greg! Babe, you're...squishing..._me_." She groaned again as he attempted to wrap his arms around her. Reluctantly, she arched her back so as he could do so. One hand went under her back, one hand travelling down to her leg, finally hooking itself to the back of her thigh. Allie wrinkled her nose. Jesus, he really _was_ trying to kill her. She gave up on him for the moment, pushing away the thin layer of curtain surrounding the four-poster bed. She was supposed to be flying out to Miami that morning, giving a lecture on being a lab-technician or some such thing. How To Be A Lab-rat 101, Greg called it. Her flight was in an hour and a half. That left no time for anything, but maybe a shower. With a quick glance down at the sleeping lump atop her, she decided she would never _ever_ tire of it. She sat up, letting Greg get woken up in an ungraceful manner. He groaned and furrowed his eyebrows. He never appreciated getting woken up like _that._ "Sorry, baby...uh, my flight's in an hour and a half...I'm thinkin' you'll have to remove yourself." She grinned at him and kissed him on the head. He reluctantly got off of her and wandered over to his side of the bed, intent on sleeping for another twenty minutes, tops.

"Ugh..." Greg yawned, rubbing furiously at his eyes. "Can't you just stay here? We'll miss you..." He lay himself down on his side. Allie swivelled her legs out of the side of her bed, searching for her shirt and jeans. She giggled.

"'We', huh? You and whose army? Anyway, it's just an overnight stay, thing. You'll have me back tomorrow night." Allie sat down on the edge of the bed, puling her jeans on. She was a little less awake than she would've liked, but she couldn't complain. The next thing she knew, Greg arms were around her waist, his mouth lingering around the nape of her neck, making it's way down her neck, and her back. "Hey, now...don't start that...ohh..." She shut her eyes and bit her lower lip. "Alright, _that_ I like, but I_ have_ to go!" She stood up and turned to him, planting a single kiss on his lips.

"You're mean." Greg sat back, gazing at her meaningfully as she crossed the room to the door. She foraged about in her drawers and produced several garments, flinging them onto the bed next to Greg. He yawned once more and shut his eyes. Allie smiled to herself, glancing over at him.

"Okay, you, there's food in the fridge, all you have to do is pop it on the microwave and cook it for three minutes. Dylan and Frank are coming over for a few DVDs, be nice to them, and make sure to switch everything off before you go to bed." Allie stopped and frowned at herself. He'd only been living with her for the last three and a half years, if he didn't know these things by now, would he ever learn?

Greg sighed. He was drifting off again on the plane of unconsciousness, barely listening to anyone. "Mmph." At this, Allie rolled her eyes once more and headed off for a shower. One she felt that she was clean enough and business-like enough, she bundled Greg into the car and drove them to the airport. She decided that, whilst he'd been awake for a while now, Greg didn't really need to drive. Basically, he was there for moral support. "You've got your passport?"

Allie smiled. "Yes, Greg."

"And your toothbrush?" An affirmative nod. "Vitamins? MP3 Player? Shoes? Fruit?" After answering all these questions, Greg started rambling on about possible techniques she could use for mentoring all the students. Allie listened to him intently, half-mesmerized, half-wondering if he'd ever grown up. At the airport, they'd hurriedly said goodbye, not really wanting to part with one another. Greg had sullenly walked back to the car, while Allie settled into her flight. She hated planes; especially the way they dipped, and sped up, and made your ears pop. And what was with the no-MP3-rule? She'd sat next to a man that had been plugged directly into an iPod the whole way there, and nothing, which only annoyed her even more. Soon after, she fell asleep.

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When she got to Miami, however, Allie was rushed right into the studio. She'd met Horatio, and the rest of the team, and they had prepped her on a few subjects. She'd written down some stuff, but none of it seemed good enough, or right. So she flew right in there on the pros and ons of being a technician, everyone listening eagerly, and there was the occasional mistake, but she managed to cover it up so as no one noticed. Afterwards, she sat down and listened to the students' questions. The first row was dotted with misfits, girls and boys dressed in the most controversial fashion statements, and the row behind them were mostly sensibly-turned-out boys, a few girls dressed to their nines. The rest were just randomly thrown together. Allie crossed her legs, worrying slightly over whether or not she looked professional enough. A girl in the front row, covered in piercings, dressed completely in black stuck her hand up.

"Is the pay any good?" She sounded surly, and Allie shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"The pay's just fine, but, but, but..." She inhaled. "The thing you guys have to remember is this; even if you're getting paid a _great _wage, if you don't like the job, then there's never gonna be any satisfaction for you. You've gotta do what you _want_ to do, screw how much cash you've got in the bank." Did that sound professional? Allie sure hoped so. This whole situation was just plain bizarre, and she was wondering why _she_ and not _Greg_ was doing this. A few more, slightly pointless, slightly difficult questions were asked involving the team, her boss, and other such intricacies of DNA technology. Allie decided that she was glad that she only had to do this _once_, and once only. The long haired student in the row behind Surly-Sue, stuck his hand up next. "You, Sir?"

"Do you have a life, like, _out_ of your lab? I mean, a personal life?" Floppy-Haired Boy seemed unsure of himself, or of his question, as if he'd only just gotten out of his diapers and had been bundled straight into college. His hair was enough to make each and every single girl in the studio turn green with pure envy. Allie smiled.

"Actually...uh, I'm married, but I met my husband in our lab. I'm not exactly into the whole rave scene, but yeah, personal lives are just as easy to handle as they were before. Well, I mean...I _think_ they are." She hadn't had too much experience with it. After another half-hour of questions, she finally ambled her way out of the studio, leaving a whole bunch of semi-happy students in her wake. Several of them - including Floppy-Haired Boy - came up to her and thanked her for being such an inspiration, which was both confusing _and_ fantastic. She headed off for one quick cup of coffee with the Miami Dade Team, including Eric Delko, Ryan Wolfe, and Jessica Lucas, a newbie _and_ Ryan's heavily-pregnant girlfriend. After that, she'd had a random chat with Horatio Caine and then went back to her hotel room. That was when it happened.

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She flopped down onto the hard mattress in her hotel room. It was a small, green-clad room, smelling lightly of some form of air-freshener, or _some _thing that should be banned from being used in such a small place. She pulled her hoodie on and zipped it up. Two minutes. She had roughly two more minutes before she had to rush back into the bathroom. In that time, her mind almost whirred out right out of her skull, engraved with a thousand thoughts. She glanced up at the ceiling, down at the floor, trying to clear her mind but it was absolutely _no_ use. She stood up, acutely aware of the fact that she was being driven insane by this room, and hovered around outside the bathroom door. She began pacing, something which she had always hated, but nevertheless, it passed a few, excruciating seconds. Allie Sanders had _always_ been blessed with impatience, but this was pathetic! She walked into the bathroom and sat on the edge of the tub. The offending stick she was waiting on was lying there, right there, on the sink beside her. She tried her best - honestly! - to ignore it, not to look at it before her two minutes was up, but she did have to sneak one little grudging look at it just to see if there was any sign of colour, red or blue. Nothing. Not yet, anywho. Only one minute to go and the whole place was filled with silence. She had bought the pregnancy test earlier, in Miami, away from Greg. She was ridiculously late, slightly irritable and in _desperate_ need of a knickerbocker glory for some reason, so all of these things somehow amounted up, and came into her mind at once, and now, here she was, waiting for the little blue line to show up. Finally, the two minutes were up. Allie immediately bolted upright and braced herself. She glanced up at the mirror, checking herself over, and then glanced down at the little white stick with a tiny screen on it.

Oh, God. It had not one but _two_ little blue lines on it. Allie momentarily smiled to herself, but the immediate wave of panic that followed almost overwhelmed her. What if she miscarried again? What if something worse happened the next time? Almost instantly, she decided that she would wait a while before she told Greg. She tossed the whole pregnancy kit into the bin and washed her hands. A wave of emotions clung on to her; she was pleased, excited, _intensely _happy, but also close to being paralyzed with fear. Slowly, she headed back into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed once more. She glanced down at her stomach and bit her lower lip. What was she supposed to do now? Well, she couldn't do much until she got back to Vegas. She quickly checked her watch, noting that there were only fourteen hours until the flight home. Suddenly, her phone buzzed away merrily in her pocket, causing her to jump slightly. She pulled it out and pressed the green button.

"Yellow?" She had long since given up trying to greet people conventionally. If they didn't like it by now, they could just lump it.

"So...what are you wearing?" Greg. _Obviously_. Like all good marital conversations, they always started off with blatant innuendo, quickly progressing into something much deeper. Allie grinned, having to restrain her mouth from spilling her massive secret. She giggled at Greg and looked down.

"Hmm, well...not very much, actually...just a smile, and a hat...maybe _one_ sock...oop, no...not anymore." She let herself collapse backwards, twirling a small strand of hair around her finger. "Yourself?"

Greg made a derisive noise from way up high in his throat, and Allie could just picture the smile on his face. "Meh, you know...stuff..." He sounded momentarily distracted, half concentrating on Allie and half on something else. "Uh, so how was your lecture?"

"Dandy, thanks. Nice kids. Very smart. I _think_ I sounded kinda professional. I looked the part, anyway. You set our house on fire yet?"

"No!" Greg groaned, letting the line go silent for a few seconds. "Hold on..."

Allie rolled her eyes. "What _are_ you doing?" Knowing Greg, it was probably something shonky, sneaky...but did he _have_ to make such a noise about it? Bang, clang, clunk and thwack could be heard over the line, arousing Allie's suspicions even further.

"Huh?" Greg hadn't heard her. She shook her head, tutting. "Sorry, I was, uh...fixing something. Anyway, I have to go, so I'll pick you up tomorrow...two-ish?"

Allie grinned. "Yesm. At the airport, Greg." Fairly obvious, but she didn't want to end up stranded. "Are you okay over there?" Once, she had left him alone in the apartment, and he'd ended up soaking the place with bath-water, everywhere, even in the bedroom. _That_ was not a nice night. She didn't speak to him for three hours, and he never spoke to her.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine." he still sounded shoddy, but Allie let it go. He was probably only doing something to his car. No need to panic. "I love you."

"Love you, too. Be good." Allie sat up and looked at her not-swollen belly. More than likely, he would only be on for another ten seconds or so. She could handle ten seconds, but not any longer. Any longer, and she _might_ just have to tell him.

"Always am. Bye." And, much to Allie's dismay, he'd hung up pretty quickly after that. Allie turned on the tiny TV in the corner of the room, pulled off her clothes and snuck into the bed. Tomorrow, she'd be back in Vegas. Then she'd be fine. Although, she found to couldn't sleep. She tried sleeping on her back, both sides, middle of the bed, side of the bed, but nothing. She sat up, eventually, and looked down at the weight on her mind. The baby. She rolled her eyes and lay down on her side, hand on her abdomen. She sighed and glanced around the room.

"Hey...uh...you." Oh, man, she was cracked. Completely nuts, insane, a _mentalist_. She was speaking to her stomach. A part of her anatomy, and she was about to begin a discussion with it. "I'm Allie, and I guess I'm your mom. At the minute, we're in Miami, and it's _extremely_ hot over here. Then again, I suppose it's kinda warm in Vegas, too...anyway, I hope you like it in there...you'll probably be in it for a while." She paused, unsure of what to ramble about next. "Guess I'd better tell you about your dad, huh? Well, his name's Greg Sanders...he's twenty-nine, he's very smart, kinda cute ina rakish sort of way, so he says...uh, and we met in the crime lab. I sincerely hope you don't ever set in foot in one of those places. They're not so safe for little people." Allie swallowed and turned onto her back, hand over her rib-cage. "Anyway, back to Greg. He's a bit of a goofball, but you'll learn to love him. Then there's your grandma, Bonnie. She's a little bit hard to take, but she means well. And there's my dad, your grandpa. Eric's his name. He's what we call, 'Our Man in Havana', or 'The International Jetsetter'. Dylan, I guess, is your uncle. He's a little bit strange, wears a _lot_ of black, can be a complete ass. But he's nice. And Frank's lovely, although he's not really related to you." She bit her lip, thinking hard on what else she had to tell the baby. "Whoa, you'll have a great-grandma. Congratulations to you. Wish I had a great-grandma. Oh, and then there's Michelle, and Jimmy. You'll love Michelle, too, she's uber-fun. And she'd probably make a decent-enough babysitter, come to think of it...Now, let me just tell you about your daddy's family..."

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The next day, Allie could not _wait_ until she was back in her house, in her own bed, able to keep the baby to herself. She was settled outside of the airport in Las Vegas, nestled into a cosy-enough chair, too tired to yawn, but too energetic to close her eyes. She had been awake until three-in-the-morning, rambling to the foetus. She no longer felt _as_ worried about it, but she still would have to wait a few more weeks before she told anyone. Even Greg. Seeing him heartbroken was something that she couldn't handle, especially over something like this. After a while, Greg arrived, got her bags for her, kissed her gently on the cheek, opened the door for her - it was worrying. He had never been as..._as_...etiquette-minded, or thoughtful. He had been just fine, but this was _amazing_. He had talked just as much when he was in the car with her, feeding her random bits of information about his recent visit with Papa Olaf. Once they arrived at Glen House, Greg had, once again, carried her bags for her, made sure that he had opened the door, told her to go ahead of him, and then he'd locked the door behind him.

Allie cleared her throat, utterly confused. "So, uh, what's all this secrecy about?" She enjoyed secrecy, and gossip, of course, but this was just pure strange. Greg smiled, wickedly, and moved over to her, taking her jacket off and flinging it with gay abandon, onto the floor. He took her hand and led her into the bedroom. "Hey, now, hold up a second, Greg, I have _not_eaten since last night-"

"Relax." Greg held a hand up, eyebrows raised, smile fixated on his lips. "That's not what we're doing. Well, not unless..." He stopped, cursing his dirty mind. And Allie's. "Anyway, I figured, since you've been away working a lot recently, and we haven't seen that much of each other, I thought..." He paused again, let his over-talkative-hands rest and looked down at the door handle beside him. He let go of Allie's hand and opened the door, motioning for her to go on ahead. She gave him a suspicious look and pushed the door open. Then there was a gasp at the sight that befell her. The whole room was covered in all sorts of fancy petals, candles, and a few other romantic things that Greg had sought out for this one specific occasion. The room smelled vaguely of flowers, and the window was letting in a soft breeze every now and then. Allie grinned wildly.

"Greg, it's...wow. Just _wow_, man. It's amazing! Did you do all this yourself?" Stupid question, Allie, of course he did! Greg nodded, leaning against the wall, gingerly. "Thank you...I-just..."

"Yeah, don't worry about it." He waved the thought away quickly, being modest again, and swept her up off the floor and onto the bed. "Now...take off your shoes," He leant forward and kissed her on the cheek, mouth hovering around her ear and spoke in a whisper. "And relax." Greg started for the door, then, and paused on his way out. "And make sure to look under the bed..." He had winked at her, mystically, and then waltzed out of the room, leaving Allie to her own devices. She sat down on the bed, removed her shoes, and her sweater, and crossed her legs. She picked up a soft, silky pink petal from the bed and examined it. Then, of course, she glanced under the bed. There was a thick, white box, decorated with a single red ribbon tied into a bow. Allie momentarily danced up and down with joy in her head, and this was _before_ she'd pried it open. She started off gentle with the bow, but then she just tore it right off, unable to restrain herself from doing so, and flipped the lid on the box up. She widened her eyes at the folded, red silk that resided under a few sheets of bubble-wrap. There was a yellow note atop it, with a simple smiley-face etched onto it, and an _'Love, Greg XOX'_ beneath it. She quickly pulled the garment out of the box and undressed herself in under five seconds, flat, before quickly pulling on the slip. It _just_ slid onto her nicely, in a hugging-manner. Allie grinned and sat back on the bed, fluffing her hair up. After meeting the long-haired student yesterday, she and her hair felt thoroughly inadequate. A few seconds later, Greg emerged from behind the door and grinned. Allie tilted her head at him, faint smile across her lips. Greg set a few bottles of stuff down on the bedside cabinet and furrowed his brows for a second, turning to look at her, completely. Good God, his brain had just melted onto the side of his skull. Apparently, so had his tongue.

"You like?"

Greg nodded. He liked it _very_ much, indeed. So much so, in fact, that for once in his life, he couldn't remember whatever genius thing he had planned to say to her. Instead, he smiled and pulled her into a passionate, heart-wrenching kiss that lingered for a few moments after he had moved to the other side of the room. "Alright, Al, lie down. Please." Of course he only added the 'please' as an afterthought.

"Greg, babe, are you gonna to kill me? Or is it something..._kinky_? You know me and kinky, Greg, we don't really get on so well..." Reluctantly, Allie betrayed the words that had just emitted from her mouth and lay herself down on the bed, on her stomach, mind, momentarily feeling a twinge of guilt over squishing the baby. She mentally begged it not to hate her in future life. Greg laughed and shook his head.

"No...I just, I think you kinda deserve this." He perched himself behind her, bottle of essential oils in hand, and slid the straps of her slip down her shoulders, squeezing a handful of the cold liquid out onto his hand before rubbing it onto Allie's back. Allie inwardly gasped at his touch and bit her lower lip. He pressed an even, firm hand down onto her back, massaging her gently, occasionally worrying if he was too rough, or too gentle. Allie didn't care. He was perfect, in her eyes, with his strong hands, his gentle whispers into her ear, the way he managed to make her fawn over him with just a kiss on her shoulder, or wherever. After another long while of Allie-Love, as he so affectionately put it, Greg eventually gave up and lay down next to her. Allie grinned and pulled him onto her chest for a brief second, arm placed haphazardly around his shoulder. Never in her life had she felt as relaxed, and content. Greg sighed, merrily, and kicked each of his shoes off, trying to climb into the rest of the bed properly. He kissed Allie and began unbuttoning his shirt.

"I take it you missed me, then." Allie watched him in awe as he removed his jeans and flung them behind the curtain. Such a lazy-yet-intricately wonderful person to watch. Greg raised his eyebrows and stretched out. Being a masseuse was tiring work. He _himself_ deserved a massage!

"Well, I guess..." Greg closed his eyes and frowned. Allie furrowed her eyebrows and shifted onto her side, propping her head up with her hand.

"Greg? Hey, what's going on in that spiky-head of yours?" Usually, he talked and talked for ages when they were in bed, but this was curious. He'd been semi-quiet - aside from those damned whispers directly into her ear-drum - when he was massaging her, and now this. Allie felt increasingly worried, and it was beginning to show. She didn't want to have to worry about Greg _and_ a baby. Greg opened his eyes and glanced up at her. He sighed heavily and considered something for a moment.

"Nothing's goin' on." Therein lay the problem. Nothing was going on, remotely. It had been months, _months_, since the incident with the baby, and they'd been trying almost every night since, and - boom! Nothing. Greg felt worse than impotent. He knew, he just _knew_, that is was his fault. "It's just...I mean, I'm a patient man, a _very_ patient man but...Doctor Pendanski told me that it would take time for us to get pregnant, but _Allie_, baby, it's been eight months. _Eight_, I mean...it's me. I know that it's me..." Greg would have rambled on for another few minutes, but he just _had_ to desist right at that very moment to frown at Allie, who hadn't stopped smiling throughout his rant. "What?"

Allie's eyes softened as she placed a stray hand on his face, moving onto that spot under his ear that turned him onto putty in her hands. "Oh, Greg. It's not your fault. I swear that it has _nothing_ to do with you."

This did not help Greg in the least. "No, Allie, something should be happening. And it's not." And then he started grousing about being useless, or some other thing that Allie just couldn't help smiling at. "Allie!" Greg shrieked, sitting up now, unable to stop venting his spleen.

Allie giggled. She, quite frankly, was enjoying herself. "Yes, Greg?"

"Why are you smiling?"

"Because." This was far too much. Whilst it was oddly attractive, she just couldn't handle him hating himself any longer. "I'm already pregnant." This caused much of a similar reaction to the first time, except there was that twinge of 'are you _sure_?' and 'is it gonna be okay?', but Allie reassured him. After all, carpe diem. Live life to the full. Take a risk, all that jazz. Really, she just wanted to shut him up and get a full night's sleep.

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**A/N: Hola!**

**Okay, sorry for the long wait, but, but, but, I wrote this chapter very hurriedly, then I didn't like it, so I re-wrote it and NOW it feels like Allie's been pregnant for years! I split it in two, as well, because it was about seven-thousand words, LOL, and that would've been inconvenient for **_**everyone**_**! There's gonna be a lot less dialogue in the next chapter, and it's an uber-rushed pregnancy, LOL!**

**Thanks to all my reviewers, only two chapters left...sniff. Then two more fics and **_**then**_** I'm retiring! Early retirement, woo! **

**Now, I usually ramble on about something in my AN, so I will **_**now**_** advise each and every one of you who read this - yeah, I see my stats, non-reviewing people!! LOL! Nah, I'm grateful, you're okay. - to go and watch 'Inside I'm Dancing', or 'Rory O' Shea Was Here' if you're in America/Australia - do I have any Aussie readers? That would be uber-cool!! - with James McAvoy. **_**Great **_**film! Really sad, but kinda fun, too. It's about these two men in wheelchairs, can't remember what they've got, but anyway, they get put into this care home place and then they kinda befriend each other, and James McAvoy's a bit of a rebel, but he's living his life to the full and whatnot...but just go and watch it immediately! **

**Please press Ben, he's been suffering the most God-awful loneliness lately, and he needs a few friends. I **_**really**_** want more than two reviews this time, so pretty please??**

**Have a great rest of the day,**

**Mary-Louise**

**XOX**


	38. Chapter ThirtySeven

Chapter Thirty-Seven: **WARNING: Eugh. This chapter kinda scares me, just a li'l bit, at the end. But enjoy :D**

Allie successfully made it to the dreaded twelve-week scan without any complications, and everything was going superbly well. Morning sickness was a new-found nemesis, and she hated the fact that Greg could no longer sleep on top of her, or the fact that she didn't feel as sprightly, or as energetic as she had a while ago. She had put on a _slight_ amount of weight, barely noticeable, and she had the most devilish cravings for salty things. She was still as cranky as she always had been, no randomly bursting into tears on Greg, or anyone else in the lab. In her fourth month, it was beginning to become evident to all and sundry that she was with child. Sara had been a brilliant help, listening to her grumble about things that were really getting on her goat, or Hodges. Hodges was an unbearable entity for pregnant people. Especially his aftershave. Allie just wanted to lock herself in a bathroom and never leave it when Hodges was around her. In her fifth month, things were moving at a rapid speed. She'd had all the correct scans, and she was taking the recommended vitamins and pills and potions. Greg was the most loving, comforting person she'd ever seen, constantly checking in with her, helping her out with things, and _still_, he never left her side of the bed, or his romanticism at the door. He really liked the bump; the swell of her stomach under her bust, the really prominent belly-button - everything. It fascinated him, too, the way two people's DNA could just merge together and whoomph, there was a mini-person coming into the world like a fragment of each of them. He'd read every single baby book that his mom could supply, and Olaf had been feeding him random tips about children. Bonnie Mullins, at first, hadn't taken kindly at becoming a grandmother this early in life, but she had eased into it in recent weeks. Eric was pleased, but was now living in Poland with Jimmy Meade for a few months, almost like a belated gap year. Everyone else was thrilled, offering to babysit, or to do whatever they could when the time came. One evening, Allie and Greg were lying in bed, half-watching the TV, half-talking to each other about said TV. Greg was on the very verge of sleep, that all-important few minutes before a mind lapses into complete catatonia and nothing else can worry you. Allie, however was _wide_ awake. She turned on her side and bit her lip. She nudged Greg and smiled, brightly.

"Hey, Greggo, wake up." Allie placed her hand atop his head and twirled a spiky strand of hair around her finger. "Greg..."

Greg stirred. His catatonic state was rumbled now, and there was no going back. Much as he loved Allie, he really did wish that she wasn't as energetic."Mmph?" The next thing he knew, there was a larger-than-normal weight on half of his torso. He opened one eye at Allie, eyebrow raised and bit his upper lip in contemplation. "Can I help you?"

Allie grinned, wildly, and kissed him, with all the force and passion she had in her, making sure one of her hands was roaming freely up and down his chest. "I _think_ you know what you can help me with." Allie's hand had made it down somewhere along his leg, making a slight rubbing motion. Greg inwardly groaned. He desperately wanted to roll Allie onto her back and, well, ravish her completely. But with the bump in the way, it would be extremely difficult and probably not too pleasant. Greg sighed, grabbing hold of Allie's hand, and pulled it onto his chest.

"Much as I'd like to, we can't." Those were the seven most depressing words he had ever had to utter. Allie arched her eyebrow at him, very unhappy about this news. She kissed him on the cheek and tousled his hair up a little bit. Her other hand moved onto his waist as she shifted her position slightly, just in case she was squashing her stomach. Greg rolled his eyes and shifted into his side. Time for assertiveness. "No, Allie." He hated saying no to Allie, or to any other females that he knew, especially his mother, but this was a health and safety issue. Allie sat herself up, decidedly annoyed.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me!" She smacked him on the arm, lightly, but not light enough for it not to hurt. Greg rubbed it gently and sat up.

"Allie, don't take it the wrong way-"

"The _wrong_ way? Well, what other way is there for me to take it?! You don't find me attractive, do you?" Allie wasn't sure if she was saddened or angry about this but happy was _not_ an option. Greg widened his eyes.

He couldn't have felt any worse if Allie had told him that was the most pathetic person on the planet and that she would never speak to him again. He _loved_ Allie, and Pregnant!Allie was one of the most attractive things he'd ever seen. How to resolve this... "I do! I do find you...you're supremely attractive, Al, but...I just don't want to hurt you. Or the baby." Greg put his arms around Allie and kissed her, teasingly. She felt somewhat relieved, but not at all less frisky. To her merriment, Greg began kissing along her neck, hands wrapped under her back, gently kneading and massaging the spare flesh. Allie moaned and guided Greg's mouth down to her neck, farther and farther down, ravishing her in the way the both of them wanted him to.

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In her sixth month, Allie had finally moved herself away from morning sickness completely, and she'd cut her six-days-a-week down to four, trying to sneak in housework before Greg got around to it and sleep, because the baby couldn't seem to keep still in the middle of the night. Allie was sitting up in bed, reading a book, all nice, warm and cosy, wrapped up in a fluffy blanket next to Greg. His eyes were half-closed, hair spiked to an extreme, which Allie loved. One of his arms had snaked it's way under her back, his other hand resting on one of her thighs. Allie put her book down and sighed, contentedly. She glanced down at her cleavage, suddenly; she wasn't sure why they _had_ to grow as much as they did, or why they reminded her of two bald men hugging each other, but she wasn't very fond of them these days. Greg seemed to like them, though. She examined her hands, and her swollen fingers. She couldn't remove Nana Olaf's ring without a massive struggle, and she wanted to _live_ in her slippers, now the only comfortable choice of footwear. Women were supposed to be mega-hormonal in their sixth month, and Allie could almost see why. Nothing fit her anymore, she was as energetic as a slug from around five-thirty in the day, and she needed to pee every three minutes, so it seemed. Greg's shirts were becoming less of a treat and more of a necessity. Then, the most distressing thing, she had to bite the bullet and buy a pair of maternity jeans with a stretch waist, which almost brought a tear to her eye. Sure, she was enjoying the pregnancy, she loved people telling her how she was glowing, and she loved how concerned and protective all the men in the lab were over her. But she didn't like the immense change of freedom, and privacy. Almost everyone she met _had_ to come up and touch her stomach, she was no longer allowed near the suspicious-looking substances in the lab and _everyone_ wanted to be completely nice to her. Suddenly, as one or two minutes ago, she'd felt happy and content, she now felt worried and slightly afraid. She sniffled and wiped away a tear, the first in four months. She wasn't sure exactly _why_ she was crying, but there was definitely a sense of melancholy in the room.

Greg, of course, couldn't let this slip past, pretending that he was fast asleep in the bed, _three_ inches away from her. He opened one eye and moved his hand up and down in a soothing motion around her thigh area. "Al?"

Allie blinked and swallowed the ever-growing lump in her throat, hand over her abdomen, protectively. "Yeah?" She squeaked out, unable to trust her voice if it was any louder. She feared it might just break and send her into a spiral of flowing, unstoppable tears.

Greg sat upright, hand under his head, focused intently on Allie. "Whatcha doin'?" Crying was the obvious answer, but what he wanted to know was _why_ was she crying. Allie shrugged and turned her head away from him.

"Nothing. I'm just tired, is all. Night..." She tried turning onto her side, but Greg caught hold of her and pulled her gaze into his eyes. He tried again to find out what was wrong, but this only resulted in more tears, which resulted in Greg in near-hysterics, engulfing her in a majorly tight hug, rubbing circular motions on her back, telling her that she was fine and dandy, everything was great. Eventually, she caved in and rested herself against him, tears occasionally rolling off her cheeks, soaking Greg's tee-shirt. Greg was still holding onto her, hand trailing up and down her back sympathetically. There was a stone-cold silence for a few moments, until Greg plucked up enough courage to say something, say _anything_. He was almost broken with worry about her.

"Allie? I love you." 'I love you', was _always_ a brilliant technique to snap someone out of a bad mood.

Allie grinned. She felt much better for letting those tears out, as if she had no other tears to cry, no more negative emotions left in her system. "I love you, too..." She sniffed once more and moved back to her cosy little nook beside Greg. She felt slightly idiotic for bursting into tears in the way that she did, but she couldn't stop them. And besides, it wasn't _really_ her fault. It was those damned hormones. "I'm _really _sorry, Greg, I...I have no idea where that came from."

Greg raised his eyebrows and nodded. "No, no, it's fine. Are you..." He examined her, hoping that she wouldn't take any of his words and twist them round. "Okay?"

Allie smiled. "Oh, yeah. I'm brilliant. Just had a wobbly moment, and now it's all good. I really do love you." She leant over and kissed him on the cheek. "Night, babe."

Greg nodded, watching as Allie rolled onto her side and gradually fell into a pit of tiredness, engulfed in her dreams, sweet or otherwise. He kissed her on the head and put an arm around her. "Night, Al."

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Nearing the end of her seventh month, Allie was enraged about everything and anything that wasn't Greg. Greg, she loved, Greg never had intentions of taking over her life, _Greg_ was nice, fun and _not_ condescending! The reason for her rage was this; everyone was molly-coddling her, trying to do her jobs for her and she hated each and every second of it. Every day she woke up happy and hopeful, but by lunch-time she just wanted to go home and clean or something, where people wouldn't be there to bug her and take the broom right out of her very hand. David Hodges, for instance, had swanned into Allie's lab and taken the blood she was running out of her grasp and tested it himself. Allie did not like that. She also wasn't best fond of the fact that her bump had stopped growing. It had gotten huge in the sixth month but now - now it was exactly the same. At the end of a particular Wednesday, Allie started to feel as though she could rest her head on her desk and stay there for the rest of the day. Grissom had seen her exhaustion, advising her to start her maternity leave. She had another three weeks left, or so she had planned, but she figured she would get more work done with Glen House than she would at the lab. Needless to say, everyone was slightly melancholic about her leaving for a few months, but Monica was more than capable of the job. And then of course, Allie spent the rest of her eighth month getting the room next to her and Greg ready. Greg painted it a really nice, light yellow, not too harsh, and bought a beige carpet for it. Allie decked it out with every single piece of baby-equipment she could find. And then came the twenty-ninth of May.

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Allie couldn't sleep. She shifted, rolled onto each side, and tried her very best to drift off to the land of nod but to no avail. Then she got up and headed to the bathroom, not even needing to pee. There was an odd, unfamiliar pressure on her abdomen which she didn't like, and then everything went slightly haywire on her. She emerged from the bathroom and hobbled into the sitting room, looking for one thing only: the medical dictionary. She immediately flicked to page six-hundred-and-forty-three, the pregnancy section. A strange, dull ache seemed to attach itself to her stomach, unable to let go, and then of course there had been the fluid that was most definitely _not_ urine, and now, good lord, there was a pain, a definite pain. She was certain that it was just constipation or something, and it was far too early to be giving birth to anything. Instead of panicking, she decided she would go back to her bed and try and sleep it off and, should symptoms persist, check it out tomorrow. She lay down next to Greg and calmed herself slightly. Well, she tried to, but the complete lack of comfort was getting to her. She groaned and sat up. Greg was still engulfed in the sheets, head resting neatly on the pillow, short, spiky hair strewn all over the place. Allie almost felt guilty as she nudged him, yet another wave of discomfort hitting her. He stirred momentarily, wrapping one arm around her abdomen. Oho, she did _not_ like that. Allie bolted upright and felt her panic level rising. This was not good. She shook Greg a little harder this time and mumbled something to him in a hurry, and that seemed to wake him up. He sat upright, rubbing furiously at his eyes, obviously trying to remove them from their fuzzy state.

"What's up with you?" He asked, eyes half-open, half-not-really-caring. Allie glanced around the room and frowned.

"I think...um...I think we might just, uh...I think my water _might_ have just broke...you know, _maybe_..."

Those words hadn't ever hit anybody as hard as they hit Greg. He immediately snapped into professional-mode, pulling his jeans on as quick as he could, tee-shirt be damned, and picked up a giant, thick book from the nightstand, clanging into several items of furniture as he did so. He was muttering things to himself that Allie couldn't quite catch and somehow, this made the situation worse. She felt utterly useless, sitting on the edge of the bed like a huge, pregnant lump, supremely talented in disturbing the sleep of your loved one. Poor Greg. He snapped the book shut and turned to her. "Does it hurt?"

Allie bit her lower lip. She wasn't sure who, or what was supposed to be hurting but yes, there was pain. Lots of it. She nodded and looked at the floor. "But I'm only eight months, Greg...I-I'm not ready!"

Greg swallowed. This he could understand. He himself wasn't ready. He moved over beside her and put an arm around her. Inside, he was slightly exhausted, torn between wanting to sleep and wanting to drive as fast as he could to the hospital, and deeply, deeply worried about Allie. "Hey, you...don't worry about it, okay? We'll be fine. Me, you and...Ned?"

Allie stared at him, confusion and amusement painted on her face. She knew Greg was trying his best, and she adored him all the more for it. "Ned? What's wrong with Graham?" She secretly still hoped for a girl, but either way, she was pretty happy.

Greg smirked, taking one of Allie's hands in his. "If it's Graham you want, Graham you shall get." Not a chance in Hell was he calling his kid Graham. They would have to discuss this matter later, _after_ she was in the car, all safe and cosy. It took a while, but Greg managed to persuade her into his car, giant bag of baby-things in the trunk. He sat in the driver's seat, pulled his seat-belt on and turned the radio on, leaving it at a relaxing, tranquil volume. He glanced over at Allie, who appeared to be trying to sort out her hair in the over-head mirror. He grinned to himself and started up the ignition. The drive to the hospital was a good while away, so Greg decided that he just couldn't handle the silence. "Do you, uh...wanna talk about it or something? Apparently, some girls like to tell their men about these things in detail. I mean...if you want to..." He really didn't want to hear about ovaries, or about cervixes, any other really scary, giant medical words that he couldn't even begin to decipher. Just as Allie was about to speak, Greg meandered his way in there again. "Some men film the whole thing...don't know why...maybe they post it on the internet...blogs...do you think that would pose a suitable case for copyright?" He talked, surely he did, until he wasn't even listening to himself. He talked until he ran out of things to talk about. They paused at a set of traffic lights and Allie glanced out of her window.

"It's a lovely evening." She managed. The discomfort was still there, but there wasn't any pain, which was nice. Greg raised his eyebrows at her. It was startling, how calm and lucid she was. If Greg was the one about to delve into hours of hard, grueling labour, he'd be sitting on his own in a corner, rocking himself to death. Allie seemed unfazed, but silently, she was filled with panic and angst. "Hey, Greg?"

"Yeah?" Every little noise she made, everytime she shifted in her seat - he was on high alert to it. Allie pulled the sleeve of Greg's sweater over her hand, thumbing the hem of it, quietly.

"Do you think...is anything gonna change? I mean, between you and me?" This had been her single-biggest fear, as of fifteen minutes ago. Greg frowned.

"No, I don't think so. Why do you ask?"

Allie felt her eyes burning, her stomach fluttering and of course everything else going on down there. They'd grown up so much in the last year, her insecure-pregnant mind just worried in case they grew up so much that they grew apart. Really-sane-normal Allie would laugh it off, knowing fully well that they would never drift apart. She stressed this to Greg, who only shook his head. "Allie, I'm not bored of you yet and I doubt that I ever will be." He stated, deeply. He was getting deep in his old age. Waxing poetical, Sane-Allie would've called it. "Jeg elsker deg, Al."

Allie smiled. "Love you, too." The rest of the drive was entirely silent, but not in an awkward manner. They arrived at the hospital, Greg plonked her down into the reception area while he headed straight to the nurses station. Once everything was sorted out there, he moved back to Allie and walked her down to her room. It was a public room, shared with another, really large, really vocal lady that did _not_ want that epidural needle anywhere near her! Her poor partner was probably on the verge of fainting, or of going deaf. Greg sat next to Allie, rubbing her back gently. The nurse came in and announced that she was going to have to sit tight for a long time yet. And so she did. She waited for another five hours until Greg fell asleep. Her contractions were coming in roughly an hour apart, so she then had to wait for another lock of hours, until, finally, she couldn't handle it any longer. She was three minutes apart, so the nurses moved her into a larger room, filled with several other people, lots of masks, lots of sharp, pointy implements lying on a very shiny table. She bit down hard onto her lip as yet another wave of immense pain clutched onto her. Greg, thankfully, was sitting almost behind her, a careful reminder that he was there, but not overtly in the way of everyone. The nurses were barking out words that she didn't rightly understand and she _definitely_ had no chance of ever pinpointing them out on a person's body if she was asked to. Everything went oddly fast after that, and Greg made sure that he was nowhere near her lower half. He pretty much stayed behind her the whole time, legs astride her arms, letting her squeeze his hand or his leg as hard as she could. Halfway through the labour, one of the chirpy midwife/nurse women asked if Greg wanted to have a quick look.

Allie widened her eyes in shock, gripping Greg's hand even tighter than she had been. "No, he does _not_ want to have a look!" Greg just _had_ to smile at this. After a few more attempts at pushing, Allie gave up for a few moments, resting against Greg's chest. "Greg, I can't...do this...I'm too...young!"

"Allie, you _have_ to keep pushing..." Nurse Clarkson was just pure condescending, and Allie really wished she would disappear for a while.

"I can't!" Jeez, you'd think people would take the hint after a while. The nurse persisted, and Allie managed to block her out. She couldn't, however, block Greg out.

"Hey, Allie...for what it's worth, I think you're doing brilliantly." Huh. He _would_ say that. "But you have to keep going. It's, like, three more pushes and then you're fine."

Allie furrowed her eyebrows, not taking kindly to this news. Three more pushes sounded like a Hell of a lot of hard work. With all the panting and groaning going on, she just wanted five minutes to be left alone, not that this was at all possible, but the hope was there. "Greg, I _can't_."

"You _can_..." Greg grabbed her hand and shifted a strand of her hair out of his way. "Come on, Al. Just keep going-"

Allie frowned, deeply. Everything from her rib-cage down was wrecked with pain. She was exhausted. She wasn't particularly keen on giving birth two weeks early and she had two nurses constantly yelling at her to keep pushing. Now she had Greg doing the same. "Ohh, gimme a second! Jeez, it's not half as easy as it looks, you know!"

Greg rolled his eyes at himself. He really should've just kept his mouth shut, as is, he had to ramble on incoherently about everything he could think of. "Honey, I know-"

"No, you _don't_! When the hell did you ever give birth? Yeah, you didn't!" Allie shifted forward again and let the immense pressure take her over. Never in her whole life had she experienced pain quite like this. She also made a pact that, after this, never again in her life was Greg going to touch her. She was surprisingly good at keeping quiet, unlike the lady that had been before her. _That _was a ruckus. She wondered if it was just her, or was this an exceptionally long labour. On TV, all the woman had to do was rant and rave, squeeze tightly onto her partner's hand and push and then, voila, there was a baby. After another twenty minutes of moaning, pushing and grousing, it was finally over. Allie leant back against Greg and managed to catch her breath. Greg himself was still getting over the shock of everything, but he confidently praised Allie as much as he could, kissed her on the cheek and finally tore himself away from her. The nurse cleaned up the small, crying bundle and handed it to Allie.

"It's a girl." Once said girl was in her mother's arms, Allie _knew_ she was in trouble. She was never a big fan of babies, or children, but this tiny, smooth, round package was _just_ enough to turn her. She was acutely aware of Greg's presence next to her, so she took a hold of his hand and grinned.

"What do you think, Mrs. Sanders?" Greg shifted himself onto the side of the bed, one arm around Allie, gazing down at the small one.

Allie felt her insides turning directly into mush, and of course the waterworks had to turn themselves on. "I'm thinking she's perfect." She had brown eyes, quite similar to Greg's, round, rosy cheeks, copious amounts of hair for a baby - brown, slightly golden - and the smallest set of hands and feet Allie had ever witnessed. In other words, she was _adorable_.

Nurse Cusack smiled at the three of them. "Any name, yet?"

Allie glanced up at Greg. Never had he seen such a beautiful specimen. _Two_ beautiful specimens, actually. She smirked and glanced back down at the baby. "Andrina. Andrina Blossom Sanders."

Greg grinned. He liked it. He glanced up at Nurse Cusack and nodded. "Andrina Blossom Sanders."

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**A/N: Hola!**

**Aaaw, wasn't that just a pile of ol' mush!! Ahem, anyway, only one chapter left after this. Thanks to **_**EVERY **_**one who's reviewed this fic, you all rock **_**majorly**_**, and I am forever indebted to you all.**_** Andrina Blossom Sanders. **_**I am really digging that name, actually. Anywho, please, please, please read and review, or just read, that'll make me uber-happy!**

**Okay, I only added the Frisky!Hormonal!Allie part just there, but my two cousins are here on a sleep over for the whole weekend - yikes-a-bee! Noise! - so the **_**very**_** last chapter **_**might**_** take a wee bit longer, and boy, howdy did I have to cop out on the fluff right there which I'm a **_**tad**_** bummed about but hopefully you guys don't mind it! **

**Uh, Nikki: Thank you so much for the review, it was class! Glad you liked FHB's part, LOL! Oh, wait, we're not supposed to be talking about him! **

**Michelle: Thank you!! I kinda really like this chapter now! **

**Viva La Gema: Hi! Lovin' the new name and I **_**adore**_** pixie sticks, LOL, and thanks for the review! **

**Anastasia Wolfe: LOL, thank you!! I could kinda imagine Greg doing that, which was odd! **

**Squee, peace, love **_**and**_** unity, **

**Mary-Lou**

**XOX**


	39. Chapter ThirtyEight

Chapter Thirty-Eight: **WARNING: Uh, kinda confusing...**Last chapter! Can't believe it!

After that, Allie and Greg settled in perfectly to parenthood. They worked easily as a team, never argued over who had the bigger responsibility - of course, though, it had to be Allie - and they _always_ made time for each other. Andrina was, quite possibly, the most perfect non-adult around. She hardly ever cried, drank a ton of milk and did nothing but smile during the day. She spent a lot of time in Greg's arms, and even Bonnie was slightly won over by her brilliance. Michelle and Frank volunteered to babysit whenever they could, Olaf was always on hand and there wasn't a person in the lab that didn't fawn over her. Even Hodges. The first night they spent in Glen House, Allie spent half of the night just waiting for Andrina to make some sort of noise, but nothing. Surprisingly, she began sleeping throughout the night, never once making a peep, which made it a _lot_ easier for Allie and Greg. Allie had gained complete control after about the fourth week, beginning to lose that extra baby-weight, standing up to Bonnie whenever she was trying to interfere.

"Mom! Really, I can do it..." Allie was in the sitting room, inches away from her own mother, trying to dress Andrina whilst also chatting to Grissom on the other line of the phone. Bonnie, of course, had to be right there, in on the action. Damned Greg. He was off at Papa Olaf's house, trying to fix the satellite for Greta when he could've been doing at least one of her extra jobs. Andrina was busy trying to grab a hold of one of Allie's fingers while Grissom was muttering something about a missing case file. Bonnie was next to Allie, motioning that she should be the one changing Andrina. Allie furrowed her brows, deeply. "Listen, Grissom, I don't know _anything_ about the Kline case, other than it was Greg and Nick and Sara...oh, you fabulous little baby, just you sit right there." Allie perched the phone on her shoulder while she tugged Andrina's hand through the pink baby-grow. "No, Grissom, not you. Well, why don't you ask Sara? Oh. Mom! I can do it, just..." Allie took the phone in her hand, let Andrina lie there for a few moments and shut her eyes. She turned to Bonnie, very displeased look on her face. "Mom, could you just go over there for a few minutes, please?"

Bonnie scoffed and stood up. "Fine, fine. I can see when I'm not wanted." Oh, _brilliant_. The last thing Allie needed - or wanted - was for Bonnie to start rambling on about how they hadn't ever seen eye to eye. So what? They were related. It was legal. Allie rolled her eyes to Andrina, shaking her head, mockingly.

"Griss, I have to go, but I'll come in later and help you look for it, okay? Outstanding, see you." With the phone call finally ended, Allie returned to Andrina, getting her changed in record time. Once that was over, she stood up, pulling the baby along with her. "Oh, you are such a fantastic little lady...yep, I know. He _is_ a pain, but what are we gonna do about it, huh?" She glanced up and noticed Bonnie leaning over the counter, back turned to her and Andrina. She rolled her eyes once more and walked over to her. "Alright, Mom. I want none of this huffy business. I didn't mean that you're unwanted-"

"Sounded like it to me, Dear. All I was trying to do was help. Why does nobody ever see it like that?" Sometimes, Allie just wanted to take Bonnie, shake her and tell her to grow directly up.

"Mom." Allie had been having a thoroughly brilliant time, just hanging out with Andrina, getting to learn her quirks, finding out what she liked, what she didn't like. Then Bonnie arrived. She began rambling on about how Allie should make Greg help out more than he was - However, in Allie's opinion, Greg was doing just fine on his own -, how she should be breast-feeding - Ha! Not a chance - and how she should concentrate on one thing at one time. If Allie Sanders/Moore was an expert in one particular thing, it was the area of multi-tasking. "Seriously. I can do this, I've taken on way more years ago-"

"What, Greg?" Bonnie Mullins was _not_ a happy lady on this particular day. Allie knew it. She just knew it! She widened her eyes and glanced down at Andrina. Bonnie hadn't ever been pleased about Greg and Allie, no matter if she was just talking to him or if she was trying to disguise a snarky comment behind a joke, Allie _always_ knew it. Just as she was about to delve into that statement, Greg burst through the door and almost bounded over to her and Andrina.

"Hey, my two best girls..." He kissed Allie on the cheek, hand resting protectively over her hip, and scooped Andrina right out of her arms. He turned to see Bonnie casting her frosty gaze on him. "And Bonnie."

"Hello, Greg. Good day at the office?" Bonnie folded her arms, eyeing Greg and Andrina up, carefully. Allie wondered if she was watching in case he made some sort of a slip-up, some distressingly bad move with the baby.

Greg shrugged, voice raising to it's highest possible octave before settling in at his natural tone. "Yeah, it was fine. Solved a case. Got promoted." He raised his head to a very, very happy Allie.

"You didn't!"

"I did." He'd only been working hard for it for the last five weeks. It was about damn time Grissom got his finger out and did something about it.

"Aaw, hey!" Allie ambled over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him in a way that should _not_ be witnessed by a parent, or a child, for that matter. "Congratulations, Greg."

Just as Greg was about to mutter something, modestly, of course, Bonnie arched a perfectly-shaped eyebrow at him. "So, this means you'll be away from home more?"

Greg glanced at Bonnie, then at Allie and finally settled his eyes on Andrina. For a very tiny baby, she had a major death-grip on his finger. "Yeah, well...not really...pretty much the same as I always am. Except for conventions and stuff like that." He looked back at Allie. "And I don't intend on leaving these two." Allie grinned.

"Well, just see that you don't." Bonnie picked her over-sized handbag off the counter and placed the strap over her shoulder. "Anyway, I have to go. Myself and Carl are heading out for dinner."

Allie's smile widened. Things were _finally_ going her way. "Indeed...say hello to him for me, will you?"

Bonnie raised her eyebrows and nodded. In a rare, strange, parallel-universe-moment, Bonnie reached forward and pulled Allie into a hug. This had only happened twice in Allie's twenty-nine years. "I will. You guys take care, okay?" She turned to her granddaughter and ran a hand over her head. "Bye, Andie." And then she sauntered out of the front door. Greg and Allie exchanged a thoroughly-confused glance at each other and then shrugged it off.

"So...how's she been?" Greg took a hold of Allie's hand and guided her over to the sofa before gently settling a half-asleep Andrina into the Moses basket. Allie tilted her head to the side and smiled.

"She has been a _dream_, Greg. It's like she's not even here. She sleeps, she eats, she plays with my hair and then she goes right on back to sleep. I think I love her, Greg! Oh, and she _hates_ any kind of facial hair on a man, so no 'tache for you. Uh, Dylan was here...let me tell you, if he even considers having kids, it'll be the world's biggest mistake. He nearly dropped her, Greg. Can you imagine?" Allie shook her head and examined her hand. Greg grinned to himself and stared at Allie for a few moments. He was incredibly lucky to have found her, this singular creature of perfection and amusement. He loved how she could go five whole minutes of talking without any reply, or any indication that she could stop. "Anywho, back to you...Mr. CSI Level Two." She leant over and kissed him on the cheek, affectionately tousling his hair as she did. "I'm uberly proud, Greg."

As she was about to pull away, go and do other house-wife-ish things - she loved the idea of being a house-wife - he put his arms around her and pulled her towards him, tightly. "Mmph..." He kissed her on the head, hand nervously fumbling around with the hem of her shirt. "I love you, Allie."

Allie smirked and rolled her eyes. "Jeg elsker deg, Greg." And she curled up next to him, reminding him of how they used to be, in the early days of courtship. Allie, who wouldn't call him anything but Sanders, rolled her eyes so much they were in danger of staying that way and over-used the phrase, 'holy cow!'. Now she was a power-house woman, mother, fantastic wife and what could Greg do to show her how much he adored her? There really wasn't _anything_ half-good enough for her. Suddenly, he remembered what day it was, and wondered if Allie remembered it, too. Now he _definitely_ had to do something for her, never mind the fact that she was working herself to a stick.

After dinner, Greg dropped Andrina off with his mother and returned back to Glen House, finding Allie cleaning the kitchen counter. He sidled up to her, and placed a hand on her waist. She jumped, momentarily, previously unaware of his presence. "Jeez, man." She pushed her eyes up, Heavenward, and then glanced back at Greg. Still. _Still_ he had that unfortunate honour of being able to turn her into jelly with just one look, or touch. Allie grinned, breezily, and looked back at the cloth in her hand. "So...you wanted to talk to me?"

In the last forty minutes or so after dinner, Greg had told Allie that the food was excellent, he was going out with Andrina to see his mom and that they needed to talk. After that, her mind had filled with all the wrong thoughts. Since then, she'd been cleaning things frantically, energetically and had been singing loudly to herself. Something that wasn't at all possible when there was a seven-month old child in the house. Greg grinned and nodded, eagerly. "Yes. I do." With that, he took her hand, leading her off into the sitting room. _Now_ she was worried.

Allie glanced around the room, expecting to see a sleeping form in the Moses basket, but she saw nothing. "What did you do with Andrina?"

"Uh, sold her. My fellow Norwegian's seem to like kids that eat a lot." Greg sat her down, face completely serious. Allie raised her eyebrows as she glanced around the room. "Relax, my mom's looking after her for the night."

Allie nodded, looking down at her hand. "So...what's wrong? I mean...is anything wrong? Have you got a problem?" Could she help, would've been her next question, had Greg's lips not crashed onto hers. She took her hand and ran it through his hair, almost collapsing against his touch. She had always been strong, but Greg made her weak, every cell in her body just needed him, and it showed, blatantly. She wrapped both arms around his neck, all worries and woeful thoughts exiting her mind. Greg pulled away from her and smirked.

"Happy anniversary." Anniversary? This was news to Allie.

"What anniversary?" It seemed that, after all the stress her body went through in recent months, she now had the ability to put her foot directly into her mouth. Greg gave her a teasing look and kissed her again.

"The anniversary of you coming to the lab. Seven years. Congratulations." He threw her a lopsided smile. Allie widened her eyes. Seven years. Jesus. How did that happen? "It also marks the first time I ever had a dirty thought involving you." Allie giggled. Greg took her hand and traced his forefinger along it. "And, Allie? I just...I don't think I can _ever_ tell you how much I love you...cause I don't even know if words can do it any sort of justice, but...you _are_..." Greg stopped, considering his words for a few moments. On his way back to Glen House, he had milled over what to say, how to say it, how to sound like a man whilst also using and abusing his romantic side. Allie's eyes softened as she tilted her head towards her left shoulder. She didn't care a jot if he continued.

"Oh, Greg..."

"Hold on a sec, I just have to say this before I forget it all." He blinked a few times, inhaled, exhaled. After all the times he'd told her he loved her, a person might be fooled into thinking this was easy. It wasn't. "Anyway, you mean the _world_ to me, Al, and I just want you to know that. You deserve everything brilliant and shiny..." Shiny? "...you're the Bonnie to my Clyde," He'd stolen that off a TV show. "The Nancy to my Sid Vicious...the..." Okay, now he was running out of ideas, and Allie knew it, and that was why she pulled him to her and kissed him, feverishly. She grabbed his hand and pulled him along the corridor, up the stairs, into the bedroom and onto the four-poster. They rid each other of any garments, kissed, touched and generally enjoyed each other for the rest of the night. Allie noticed how these days, Greg was preferring to kiss her senseless rather than to greedily let her take him over. And she loved it. At two in the morning, Greg was hovering above Allie, hands buried into her hair, lips pressing themselves against her neck, kissing, nibbling, occasionally whispering full-hearted little words of desire, passion and praise to her, hot breath tickling her neck, every touch getting to her more and more. Allie grinned and trailed her hands up and down his back, his arms, her hands through his hair, thoroughly exalted and exhausted. After a few moments, Greg sighed, happily, and rolled off of her, entangling his legs with hers. He pulled the large, fluffy blanket up from the bottom of the bed and wrapped it around himself and Allie, snuggling up to her. He let his arm rest across her ribs as he circled his finger up and down her side. He was glad the creature of his dreams was here, right now, tangible and inimitable, utterly fantastic.

Little did they know, at that point, that they would spend the next sixty-odd years together, much in the same way. Anthony Sanders would be born a year later, growing up to be an exact replica of his father. Andrina took after Allie, mostly, and yet there was a twinge of Greg in all of her intricate little actions. She would be artsy, singing her way throughout America, and yet she wouldn't have ever dreamt of leaving Las Vegas. Anthony wrote. A lot. Poetry, short-stories, science-fiction- everything. Allie and Greg couldn't have been prouder. She wrote every evening into her book, rain or shine, documenting every aspect of her life. Greg worked as a CSI for eight years before he returned to the lab, unable to handle the gory, angst-ridden cases that bothered Allie so much. Everything that he had seen made him appreciate blood and semen all the more. He taught both the kids how to drive, how to play basketball, all of life's essentials, whilst never ignoring Allie. Sure, they'd had their arguments - sometimes lasting more than two days -, but they always more than made up for it. Everyone in the lab went on to lead successful, fulfilled lives. Grissom and Sara had a very sneaky, very intimate ceremony with only their colleagues there for moral support. Fourteen months later, Lisa-Rose Grissom was born, lived a few years and then turned into a scarily-smart child that almost mirrored her mother for looks and her father for brains. Nick and Antoinette never rightly saw eye-to-eye, but they kept it together over the years, while Bobby went on to be a very successful detective. Warrick and Tina divorced, giving Warrick space and time to learnt that Catherine Willows had been under his nose all this time, but that it wasn't ever too late to act on his feelings. David Hodges...was still David Hodges, but Monica Kessler adored him and vice versa. As for Allie's family, Bonnie and Carl divorced each other, while Bonnie moved onto Darnell, a very young, very handsome baseball player. Dylan married a red-haired, green-eyed model, while Frank never really got around to it, for one reason or another... Greg always thought that it was to do with his irrepressible crush on Allie. Allie suspected he wasn't too interested in the female race. The hardest things were always to do with coping with the loss of a family member, in Greg's case, Olaf, in Allie's, it was her grandmother. Both events took major tolls on the both of them, but throughout it all, they were there, arms always wide open for the other one to find comfort. Greta died a few years later after a string of tumultuous affairs on holiday, leaving the house to Greg and Allie. They fixed it up, foraged through every box, every photograph and then they moved Michelle and Jimmy Meade into it. Michelle ended up as a nurse, with a very large, very adorable family, headed by Jack, a doctor. Greg referred to Olaf almost every day, even teaching Andrina the odd bit of Norwegian. Anthony already made sure that it was his second-language by the time he graduated from college. Once the kids had moved out, Allie and Greg, for a while, anyway, weren't too sure what to do with themselves. So they went on a month-long holiday, rediscovering their youth, almost. Youth, indeed. Neither of them changed much throughout the years. Allie, however, demanded that as soon as he grew a white hair on his head, Greg had to invest on a strong-hold hair-dye. Vanity, after all, wasn't a thing to worry about in Las Vegas.

"Hey, Greg?" Allie smiled lightly at Greg, fingers tousling his spiky hair, sending him into a blissful, catatonic state. Greg opened one eye and smiled.

"Mm?"

"Could we stay like this? I mean, as long as we can?"

Greg grinned. "'Course we can. We can stay like this for as long as you want us to, Al." With that, he rolled over onto her stomach, planting several lazy kisses along her belly before drifting off to sleep.

But had someone came up to Allie and Greg and told them this while they were lying on the four-poster-bed, savoring each other, loving each other to their fullest possible abilities, they would've said that they were mental. It was never easy, but, Allie thought, it was always fun and there wasn't anyone she would rather have lived her life with. At the end, it had been said to her that swans sing before they die, and it occurred to her, as she thought back to everything they had gone through, if anything, Allie and Greg had sung the loudest, best song that they could.

And they wouldn't have changed a thing.

**Le fin!**

**A/N: Oh, jeez, that was **_**super-hard**_** to write! I am honestly, **_**fighting **_**tears at this very moment. Urgh, anyway, I **_**know**_** it was super-cheesy, and the hole swans-sing-before-they-die thing was in a poetry book...think it was Yeats, but I'm not a poetry-buff, so... that one of my Gran's dearest friends told me to write. See, he was over here in January for his uncle's funeral, and he is just **_**the**_** coolest dude, I tell you, so I **_**had**_** to use it. Oh, my eyes! Now...Hope you guys enjoyed the ending...I **_**did**_** plan on much more dialogue, but really, what more words can be said? Well, none, really, cause it's getting **_**very**_** late over here, so! **

**Thank you **_**so**_** much to each and every single reviewer, I adore you all! And I am **_**so**_** happy that I've got half-as many reviews as I have!! I honestly never expected anyone to like this fic, at all, so woot. OH! OH, OH!! I **_**also**_** meant to say that, for the amount of sheer fluff going on earlier on, I do **_**not**_** have a dirty mind! I just like writing fluff! And I never got half the stuff written into this chappie as I was going to, but did you really want me to cry throughout the whole thing?? **

**Now, boring stuff ahead; the disclaimer. I don't own CSI - but I **_**did**_** get CSI Magazine, which rocks! -, or any of it's characters. I do, however, own:**

**Allie Moore, Andrina, Anthony, Dylan, Frank, Michelle - kinda, LOL -, Monica - ditto -, Bonnie, Carl, Jimmy Meade, Ashley Kelly - the brazen hussy -, Rancid Molecules, Danni, the sleaze-bag waiter whose name I have misplaced...Antoinette and any other strange, peculiar characters. AND I've just noticed that the new-found Sanders family's names all start with A...Andrina, Allie, Anthony...weird. I must like A names.**

**Okay, please leave me a wee review...I have to go before I burst into unmanageable, hysterical tears of doom!! Thanks again for sticking with me through all the writer's block and fits of rage, LOL. Oh, and I MIGHT post the other fic in about two weeks...Mad As Rabbits - remember that! **

**Peace, Lots of Love and Major Unity,**

**Mary-Louise**

**XOX**


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